The Best Good Deed Ever

"Sorry, Doc. You're wrong on that one. Women want a strong man. Not a crybaby," he retorted.

"I agree," I said. "And the strongest men I ever met were the ones who could acknowledge their emotions. And, as I said, they were also the ones whose beds squeaked the most."

He didn't look convinced, but he did look curious.

"Tell me about one of these guys."

"Well, one subject, I'll call him John, he and his wife had sex way less than he wanted, and he became angry and bitter. They started fighting a lot. When he read an article about my research, he came to me. For a long time, he talked about how angry he was, and how his wife was frigid." At this, Ted's ears perked up. "We talked long enough that he finally started thinking about the feelings underneath his anger and bitterness. Like all men, he wanted to be a stud in bed, a man of action, giving his wife the ride of her life. But she didn't seem to want it."

Ted was staring at me as I spoke, hanging on to every word.

"He said, 'I feel so terrible about how I've fought with her.' And then he told me all the things he loved about her. It was quite a list. And only some of the items were about her body. He loved her mind and soul too. After listening to all this, I suggested an experiment. 'Tell your wife what you just told me,' I said."

Ted visibly recoiled at the suggestion.

"He did what you just did," I said. "'I'll sound like a cry-baby,' he told me. 'Just try it once,' I suggested. 'Tell her how terrible you feel about your fights. Then reel off that list for her.' 'But she'll just lord it over me!' he said. 'She'll say, yeah, that's me, but what are you, you tiny little man?' I could feel how frightening it was for him. 'Just try it once,' I said, 'If she can feel that you're really seeing her, she'll start seeing you back. If you start the connection, she'll keep it going.'"

"And?" Ted blurted.

"The man came to my office every day for a month afterward to shake my hand. A year or so later, he brought in a cigar to celebrate the birth of their baby."

There was a moment of silence between us. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Ted's face bounce between anger, sadness, and hope again and again. Finally, he spoke.

"I get your title now," he said. "Pretty clever. Too bad it's bullshit."

He lurched to his feet and stalked away. I saw him later that night drunk as a skunk. I felt terrible. Maybe my counseling really was worth only one cigarette.

Well, I finished the novel that night. It was the butler that did it. I closed the book, set it on the nightstand, and switched off the lamp. I had the shade pulled down tight over my window so that it was almost completely dark. Sighing contentedly, I pulled the covers up. I had to admit, it had been a good, if strange, vacation so far. I thought back over the extraordinary encounters I'd had with Faye and her sweet young body. I started to sink into long-neglected memories of Elle, too. The two girls started to melt together in my mind as I dozed.

I was almost asleep when my cabin door suddenly opened. It closed again before I could turn over and see who was there. I heard uncertain, shuffling footsteps coming toward the bed. I wondered if a drunken Ted had slipped in to wreak his revenge on me for taking his wife's virginity, even if it was just with my finger. I was startled when whoever it was lifted the covers, climbed in bed, and stopped moving.

I lay frozen, not knowing what to do. Finally, I heard some gentle snoring. My first instinct was to turn the lamp on, but that might wake whoever it was, and I wasn't dressed for any kind of encounter. The fact is, though I wear pajamas in the evenings, I sleep naked. So, instead, I reached over slowly and put my hand on my co-sleeper's body. It was covered with a satiny fabric. I tentatively ran my hand upward and felt a breast. I pulled back.

"Mmm. Don't worry, Baby. We're married now," mumbled a voice I had come to recognize.

Faye was lying next to me.

My side of the bed was up against the cabin wall, so I couldn't slip out easily. I quietly folded the covers back to make my escape toward the foot of the bed, but an arm and leg were suddenly thrown over me, and Faye snuggled up against my body.

"Why did we fight?" she asked in an affectless voice. "Why are you so mad at me?"

I remembered her telling me about how she was a sleepwalker. Apparently, she was a sleeptalker, too.

I tried to leave again, but she grabbed on to me tightly. I could feel her firm breasts pressed again my side, and her thigh lay on my crotch. The heat of her body, the softness of her flesh, and the silkiness of her nightgown made my cock start to rise.

"Don't go," she muttered. "Talk to me."

But I kept my silence, not wanting to wake her.

"Talk to me!" she moaned insistently.

If she woke up, it would probably be catastrophic. She knew she was a sleepwalker, but I was nude and sporting a hardon. Any explanation would sound feeble. I knew that sleepers are prone to awakening when they encounter resistance to what their sleeping mind expects. So the best plan, I understood, was to play along and find a way to get her back to her own room while still sleeping.

An idea popped into my mind. Maybe I could use this situation, as bizarre as it was, to help Faye and Ted out.

"Baby?" I said. "I want to apologize. I feel so terrible about our fight. Gosh, I love you. You're the bee's knees."

"Bees knees," she giggled sleepily.

Hmm, maybe that expression was a bit dated.

"There are so many things I love about you, Babe."

"Like what?" she said, snuggling closer to me.

"Well, you're a beauty queen for one thing."

"No, I'm not."

"To me, you are. That's the thing, Baby. When you're with me, you're with the person who sees every little piece of your beauty--and I'm always looking for more. And guess, what? I find it. The more I'm with you, the more beautiful you are. That's why I want to spend my whole life with you."

"Mmm," she breathed as her hand slid down my chest.

"But that's just your outside. You're beautiful inside, too. You have the most open, trusting heart I've ever encountered. You're so generous with the people around you. You're whip smart. And, it's a selfish thing to say, but you seem to really see me. I want to see you the same way. I want to make you feel the way you make me feel."

I suddenly stopped. I realized that those were some of the things I admired about Elle. It was as if we were in bed together again, and I was telling her I loved her one more time.

After I stopped speaking, it was quiet for a moment. I sighed, thinking I could finally extract myself.

But then a hand grabbed my penis. It slid up and down my shaft slowly and gently. Then Faye took my hand and guided it down to her vagina. (And, no, she was not wearing any panties.) She took one of my fingers and pressed it to her clitoris. "Make me feel like I make you feel," she muttered slowly. And then she went back to caressing my hardon.

This had gone further than I had expected. I had just wanted to clear the emotional detritus away for her. But apparently I had done too good a job. I wasn't getting a cigarette out of this, I was getting a hand job, and the invitation to give her one. Should I do what she wanted, even if I wasn't her Ted?

She ground her pelvis against my finger and I was suddenly terrified that she would wake up. The only thing to do was to follow her lead and hope she stayed asleep. So I started rubbing her little button. I pictured us from overhead, this beautiful young woman with my dick in her hand, my finger deliberately slipping in and out of her vagina. Sometimes she was Faye, that pert little sprite, so full of potential sexual energy. And sometimes she was Elle, with the face I had loved so dearly, those legs I had worshipped, those breasts I had nestled my face between. With each stroke, the girls shifted, a different hand caressing my penis, a different vagina accepting my finger.

Then she sat up. My heart leapt, pounding a mile a second. Had she woken up? Was I about to take up residence in the ship's brig for seducing another man's wife? It was dark, so I couldn't tell. I heard some movement, and suddenly the head of my cock was engulfed in a sweet, warm wetness. Faye had taken the opportunity to deploy her new trick.

She wasn't particularly good at it. It was her first blowjob, after all. But the mere fact that my dick was inside her mouth was enough for me. I once again sent an apology Ted's way. "Sorry, she sucked my dick before she sucked yours." However, I would put money down that he would get many more blowjobs because I taught her about them than he would have otherwise. It was a good trade on his part. And an excellent one on mine. I fell into a deep relaxation that I hadn't felt in years. There's something utterly comforting about a girl taking you inside her mouth. It's as if she is saying, "I love you completely. I am here to fill all your empty spaces. Your pleasure is my single goal. Your cock--the hardest, most sensitive, most blindly animal part of your body--is what I am hungriest for. I want you in my mouth." She moved her head up and down rhythmically, my cock sinking into her warmth again and again. I thrust gently along with it.

Then I remembered Faye's words. "Make me feel like I make you feel." So after swimming in pleasure for a while, I said, "Hey Baby, I've got something for you." Then I crawled down between her legs and pressed my face against her sweet little vagina. I felt her thighs against my cheeks. I inhaled her scent. And then I slid my tongue inside her vagina as far as I could go. It was the taste of heaven. And I tasted it first. Then I gently began to lick her clitoris. She seemed to love it every bit as much as I loved her attentions to me--hopefully more, since I knew what I was doing. She squirmed and sighed and thrust her hips gently into my face.

I had missed this so much. Giving a woman cunnilingus is my form of worship. I prostrate myself in front of the woman, in front of the goddess, in front of life. My prayers are made by my lips and tongue caressing her vagina in every possible way, exploring this most intimate, vulnerable, delectable flesh cup. Feel the touch of my devotion, let me drink your nectar, let me stretch toward the darkness of your womb. May my worship be your pleasure. The goddess was Faye. The goddess was Elle.

After a few minutes, I started to surface from the warm sea of desire and remembrance as I realized that Faye was approaching a climax. She certainly deserved one, but I suddenly wondered if her first-ever orgasm would wake her up. I decided not to chance it. This might be my chance at escape. I could just pull away and leave her sleeping. But as I moved, her legs wrapped around my neck, and she pulled me back. In fact, she pulled me on top of her.

And there we were, a girl within inches of orgasm, her skin radiating sex, her vagina wet with desire. And lying on top of her, a man with a hot, hard erection pressed up between her thighs--only a layer of satin separating them. I had braced myself against the bed with my forearms, not wanting to wake her by weighing her down. She lifted her body up a little and pulled her nightgown up until it was bunched around her armpits and exposing her breasts. Then she relaxed and wrapped her arms around me, pressing our naked, sweaty bodies together.

She spread her legs.

"I'm ready," she breathed.

Oh God.

I felt her firm young breasts pressed against my chest. I felt her breath on my neck. I pressed the head of my throbbing cock against her sweet vaginal lips--their warmth, softness, wetness. I trembled on the threshold of her paradise. Then, suddenly, Faye pressed her hips down, and my cock slid inside her.

"Baby," she whispered, wrapping her legs around my back.

The world disappeared. I felt the sweet velvet of her vagina sheathed tightly around me. I felt the irresistible siren calls of brute desire and heavenly connection. I took her face in my hands and kissed her deeply as I thrust and thrust and thrust. It was simultaneously chaos and stillness. I was the storm; she was the sea. And in our center, the eye of the hurricane.

The eye became bigger and bigger as I penetrated her body. It grew as our gasps reached a rhythmic union, as our bodies slid sweatily together, as our tongues slipped in and out of each other's mouths, a sensuous echo of the passion at our hips. Soon, I knew the eye was seconds away from obliterating me. And I wanted nothing more than to explode inside this girl. To shoot my life into her womb. To fill her with my deepest essence.

"I trust you," she had said.

She was married to another man. He was a good man, and they loved each other. They had a life ahead of them. I did not want to ruin that.

I pulled out.

Instead, I slid my cock over her clitoris over and over and over. Her moans became louder with each thrust. Then all at once, her arms and legs became rigid as stone, and her body began to quiver. Her fingernails dug into my back. Her breath balanced on the point between inhalation and exhalation. Her vagina pulsed with overwhelming pleasure against my cock.

"Ted," she said. "I love you."

But it wasn't Faye's voice. It was Elle's.

A dark boulder of despair in my chest that I had forgotten I had been carrying, melted. And then I realized that my cock was inside her. Inside my Elle. I could see her face, her naked shoulders, her beautiful breasts, could feel her legs wrapped around me. She held my face in her hands and looked into my eyes. "Come inside me," she whispered.

The eye of the storm.

I erupted, my cock lavishing semen deep into her womb, pumping and pumping years of sadness out of my soul, cleaning out my darkest corners, until I was utterly empty.

Then, stillness was all.

I leaned down and kissed my Elle. "I love you, too," I said.

I opened my eyes. Faye lay beneath me, snoring. I reached down and felt my semen, warm between our bellies. That definitely needed to go.

I backed off the bed and grabbed some toilet paper from the bathroom. Then I used it to clean her up. By the light of the bathroom, I shimmied her nightgown back down. Then I got dressed and headed out the door, breathing a huge sigh of relief when I stepped onto the deck.

I kept an eye on my door, and in about half an hour, saw Faye stumble out. I could tell she was still sleepwalking. I followed her at a distance to make sure she got back to her room alright. And she did.

I took a stroll around the deck to clear my head and was startled to find Ted sleeping outside in a lounge chair. He still had alcohol on his breath. I assumed he had never actually made it back to his cabin. The poor kid would get cold out here.

I grabbed his shoulder and shook him a little. He opened one bleary, bloodshot eye, but didn't seem to see me.

"Hey, bud," I said. "Let's get you to your cabin." Then I hauled him up, put one of his arms over my shoulders, and walked him to his door. I opened it and saw Faye sleeping soundly on the bed, curled up against the wall. I sat Ted down and took off his shoes. Then I tipped him into bed, snuck back out of the cabin, and shut the door.

The next morning, Faye and Ted didn't show up for breakfast. I wasn't sure what that meant. Did they make up? Did they fight again? Was Ted suffering from a hangover? It was a mystery, but there was an island to tour that day and I toured it. That evening, they didn't show up for dinner, no one sleepwalked into my room that night, and no one fell asleep drunk on a deck chair.

The next morning, they did show up for breakfast. And they were glowing. I hadn't seen such a happy couple since... well, since I got married. They fed each other grapes and giggled. They swiped each other's spoons and giggled. They giggled at each other and giggled. Then they missed lunch, leaving the reason why up to my fertile imagination. And they ate ravenously at dinner, confirming my wildest speculations.

After dinner, Faye headed toward their cabin, throwing a seductive glance at Ted on her way out of the dining room.

"Be right with ya, Babe!" Ted called out.

I was heading toward the deck myself and heard his footsteps behind me. As I leaned on the safety rail and looked out at the ocean, Ted trotted up and stuck out his hand.

"Shake, Doc," he said, a huge grin on his face. "I owe you an apology. You were right as rain."

I shook his hand, and then he stepped closer and whispered, "I gotta tell someone. And it needs to be someone who won't blab. A professional. You still charge one cigarette?"

"My fee has doubled," I said. "But I'll give you half off today."

He shook two cigarettes out of his packet and gave one to me. Then he lit them both, checked for nosey bystanders, and leaned close.

"Turns out I had sex with Faye the night before last without even knowing it!" he whispered. "And apparently, I was what she called the bees knees! See, I did exactly what you said. At least, that's what she tells me, because I was drunk and don't remember anything. But I opened my heart to her. Really told her how much I love her, you know? Really made her feel seen, she said." He got a little teary and paused for a few seconds to gather himself.

"And after that, she said, she and I had the most fantastic sex. That I... holy cow, I did some stuff to her that I didn't even know you could do! She said I pushed all her buttons perfectly and just blew her mind! 'It was the perfect first time,' she said. 'I'll remember it for as long as I live!' Put that on the back of your book!"

I just stared at him, a dazed smile on my face. The perfect first time. Sponsored by yours truly. It made me realize that I wasn't just a dusty old scholar. I knew how to please a woman, body and soul. Any girl would be lucky to have me. Confidence welled up inside me, and the future suddenly looked bright.

Ted heaved a huge sigh. "But the thing is, I couldn't remember a thing about it. So, she said, 'Well, how about we start again?'" He elbowed me, "And does she know some tricks! We wouldn't have made it to dinner tonight except that I started getting sore. Who knew that I would ever ask for a break?" He raised his eyebrows at me, "But I think I'm ready to go again." He slapped the railing and started walking toward his cabin. I walked with him.

As we got close to his door, we saw Faye standing next to it watching the sunset. "You did a good deed, Doc," Ted said. He slapped me on the shoulder and strode forward to embrace Faye. As he did, she looked over his shoulder and gave me a huge smile. I smiled back.

"Best good deed ever," I thought.