The Muse

"You like this, don't you," she said in her sexiest voice. "Keep your hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road and don't get us killed."

Each time she sensed that he was about to erupt, she stopped and squeezed its head, forcing back his release, only to start up again a few moments later. Again and again she held him off until they were on the Garden State Parkway.

"Now I'm going to go through your gears."

Her hand suddenly began to move him like a stick-shift, violently back to second, then to third, and finally to fourth, her hand moving faster and faster until his rapid breathing signaled his immanent release.

She pointed his gushing manhood back towards his body as spurt after spurt of his essence landed on his chest and stomach.

When he was finally finished, she wiped her hand on his shirt and sat back into her seat.

"Wow," he said. "If that's payback, we definitely have to come here more often."

"Oh, that's not the payback," she said with a Cheshire cat grin. "Payback comes tomorrow when you have to do the laundry."

"Honey, take the wheel. I have to straighten up a bit before we get home."

"No, I don't think so; just hope we don't get passed by a bus load of horny old ladies coming back from Atlantic City," she said and rolled over on her side facing the window.

That night when they finally got back home, Jim, upped the ante by stepping out of the car still totally exposed, and slowly redressed himself. By the time they got to their condo, they could barely keep their hands of each other. Like newlyweds on their honeymoon, they shed their clothes as they made a mad dash to their bedroom.

______ ____________

Jim glanced over at his daughter, sighed, and observed the speed limit the rest of the way home.

Chapter 3

When they got home, Kristin led the way into the back lobby and into the elevator. Reluctantly, Jim followed. It had been six months since he had used the elevator. As he entered, he couldn't help but glance over to the corner, the place they had found her, still clutching the bag of groceries for that night's dinner. Erika had gone to the market for a few things that she needed. She had pressed the button for the fifth floor when she suddenly experienced a searing, knife-like pain behind her right eye. She was dead before she hit the floor. The autopsy revealed that she had suffered a massive aneurysm caused by the rupture of an artery in her head. She was found by a couple from the fourth floor who were returning from a day at the beach. Jim was working in his office when the police rang their doorbell.

He had barely been able to complete the final chapter of the novel he had been working on and hadn't started anything new since that terrible day. Kristin had been his rock. She had been more of an adult than he had been, assuming the role of caretaker for her distraught father as they mourned together. She made their meals, washed their clothes and was still able to keep her honor roll status at school. He was so proud of her when she received the letter of acceptance from the University of Miami, her first choice college, being accepted into their five-year dual degree program in Marine Geology. He had slowly regained control of himself and things got back to some semblance of normal. Lately, he was handling most of their meals, doing the laundry and making sure that she got to school and back. The only thing he couldn't do was write. The words, the stories, just wouldn't come.

That night, over a simple meal of rigatoni and meatballs, they discussed her day at school.

"I can hardly wait for this school year to end. It's like we're just going through the motions. All of us seniors have already received our acceptances into college. Even the teachers are beginning to slack off."

"Well, you still have to go; you have to have a certain amount of class time each year or you won't be able to graduate.

"I know, but it just seems so pointless."

"Just hang in there; you have less than a month to go."

"Actually, just three weeks to graduation."

"Your mother would have been so proud of you," he said as a tear slipped down his cheek.

She got off her chair, and came around the table and held him tightly.

"I know, Dad, I know."

She was so much like her mother. She looked just like he remembered Erika looking when she was Kristin's age. So good-looking, so mature, so responsible; he was really going to miss her when she went away to school in September.

After dinner, he cleaned up and washed the dishes, while Kristin adjourned to her room to complete the rest of her homework that she hadn't done on the ride home.

Jim watched the evening news as usual on the TV in the family room. Later he walked over to Kristin's side of the condo and knocked on the frame of her bedroom door. He blew her a kiss and wished her a good night.

He returned to his side, closing the connecting door behind him, poured himself his usual evening Johnnie Walker Black on the rocks, and entered his bedroom. This ritual was always the same; he stripped off his cloths, put on his bathrobe, picked up his drink and went out onto the balcony. There he sat, sipping his drink while he listened to the gently breaking waves and gazed at the night sky. When he finally finished his drink and the remaining ice had melted, he got up and went to bed.

Ever since they first got married, it had been their habit to sleep in the nude. Erika said it was healthier for the body to sleep at a lower temperature, "and besides, why bother getting dressed for bed, when you knew you were going to have to take your clothes off again a few minutes later?" So he shut the light, tossed his robe over a chair, and crawled into bed pulling the sheet half way up his body.

Sometime during the night he began to dream of Erika. The dream felt so real to him. He was a morning person while she, on the other hand, was a night owl. It worked out perfectly for them. He would go to bed early, while Erika stayed up late, working on the latest chapters of his book. Many a night she would slip into bed and playfully begin their love-making. Sometimes he would wake up on his own but most of the time she would have to make a conscious effort to wake him. His protests about needing his sleep because he had to wake up early in order to take Kristin to school were feeble and without conviction. Sometimes he would 'get even' early the following morning.

This dream felt like one of those nights. He could feel her pull the sheet off his body, her gentle touch as she crawled between his legs, the familiar feeling of his growing erection as she held him, and the unbelievable sensation of her mouth as she worked it up and down, her tongue caressing the underside of its head. He didn't know how long it lasted, but finally, he felt like he was being turned inside out as he came. After a few moments, he felt her gently return his now flaccid cock back to its original position, give it a goodbye kiss and a gentle pat. Then the bed moved and the sheet was pulled back up to his waist and all was still again.

Erika had always said that he could sleep through just about anything and that the most unsettling thing about how he slept was that he never seemed to move. He would wake up exactly in the same position as he went to bed the night before; usually on his back with his hands folded on his stomach.

That was the way he woke the next morning. But something was different; he could vividly remember his dream and his chest was sticky.

'Oh my god,' he thought, 'I had a wet dream. I haven't had a dream like that since I was twelve years old.

It was still dark outside, the sun just beginning to peek over the surface of the Atlantic. That was a price he was willing to pay for his daughter to get the best education possible. Jim jumped into the shower; he didn't have to worry about Kristin sleeping in, she was a morning person, too. By the time he got dressed and opened the connecting doorway, Kristin was already in the kitchen making their breakfast.

"Come on sleepyhead; you'd better eat quickly or your breakfast will get cold."

"You're just like your mother. She was always giving me orders, too." Jim said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, she would have wanted me to take care of you, so that's what I'm doing; I'm taking her place. Finish up, it's almost time to leave. You can do the dishes and clean up when you get back."

Jim took the keys to the SUV from the rack by the door. When they got down stairs, he unlocked the doors and waited for Kristin to get in before starting the motor and pulling out of his parking spot. He always took the SUV in the morning as an accommodation to the tenants in their building. It was a lot quieter than the Corvette.

The ride to the bus stop was quiet as well. Kristin was reading; while Jim was rehashing the events of the previous night and the conversation at breakfast. 'Could it be possible, was his little girl taking her added burden of being his caretaker a little too seriously? No, don't be ridiculous; she wouldn't do anything like that, she's a good girl. You just had a sexual dream about your wife. It's been over eight months since she's gone; you just needed a release.'

The conversation in his head kept repeating itself, until he found himself making the turn into the shopping center parking lot. They were the first to arrive, but within five minutes several others arrived. Tiff and her mother would be the last to arrive as always. They made it just as the bus turned the corner.

"Dad, remember to bring this car later; the girls are coming home with us tonight and spending the Memorial Day weekend. You didn't forget did you?"

"Of course not," he said with a sheepish grin. "I'll be here to pick up the 'We Five' when you get here."

The 'We Five' was not the 60's folk group that had one major hit with "You Were on My Mind," but rather the five girls who took the bus every day for the last four years and had become inseparable friends. The group consisted of Kristin, Tiffany, Jenny, Rose, and Faith. They were all different, with different looks, mannerisms, style, and attitudes; but they were absolutely loyal to one another and both Jim and Erika had approved of their friendships.

When he got back home he made sure the entire condo was clean and ready for company and then sat at his computer. He felt a story coming on. He did a quick outline of the basic plot and was just fitting in some of the subplots when he suddenly realized that he had already written this story four years ago. Frustrated and depressed, he shut down the computer and went for a long run. When he returned he took a quick shower and cleaned out the SUV, went for a carwash, and hit the road. He was a half hour early, but he figured it was always better to be early than late.

Each of the other girls exited the bus with an overnight bag. There was an absence of books, which seemed to set the mood for the entire three-day weekend. The ride home was exceptionally loud, full of gossip and laughter. Jim only shook his head; it was going to be a long weekend.

Of course since he got the car washed, you had to know that it was going to rain. By the time they returned home and had settled their sleeping arrangements, the clouds arrived and a steady rain had begun to fall. That changed the plan for the evening. Originally they had planned for an evening on the boardwalk, maybe sharing a couple of large pizzas; now that was cancelled. Instead, it was decided that the six of them would head to Cape May and have dinner at a Greek restaurant that Jim, Erika, and Kristin had gone to many times in the past and were well-known to the owner and the staff. It was a place that allowed BYOB, so Jim packed two; a Chardonnay and a Pinot Gris.

When the girls finally began to assemble, Jim couldn't get over how different they were. All were attractive, athletically-built young women, but each had a different look. His Kristin was dressed in low-cut jeans, with a short polo shirt, that didn't quite reach her waist; her long blond hair was tied back into a ponytail. She was the typical girl next door, fresh-faced, with just a hint of her budding sexuality. Jenny was a relatively tall Asian-American, with dark hair and large brown eyes; she dressed in kakis and a cotton sweater, a very collegiate look. Rose, a dark-haired olive-skinned Italian originally from the south side of Philadelphia, was the Goth of the group, dressed in all black with black combat boots and multiple earrings. If you didn't know her, you'd swear she was a trouble maker; in reality, she was the class valedictorian and was headed for Harvard in the fall. Faith was the youngest of the group, angelic in appearance, with high cheekbones and the bluest eyes Jim had ever seen. She had also been blessed with the biggest bust line of the group which she always tried, but was never quit able, to hide. And then there was Tiffany.

Tiffany was a girl of contradictions. The tallest of the group, she dressed and acted much more mature than her years. If you looked at her from across a room you would be hard pressed to guess her age. She had a full head of wavy blond hair, her makeup was always perfect and she oozed sexuality. In a group she was always the loudest; her laughter was contagious and she gave the impression of being a dumb blonde. That is until you had a conversation with her; then her intelligence and worldliness came to the forefront. Jim looked at her, remembering the day of his wife's wake. Both Tiffany and her mom had come dressed in form-fitting black dresses and heels. At one point during the wake, Tiffany had left her mom and had joined the group of friends. She had looked like a mature woman among a group of teenagers. And yet now she was giggling and joking with the others; just a typical teenager.

After a ten-minute drive, they arrived at the restaurant. Sal, the owner, greeted Jim with a loud greeting and a big hug and then escorted them to a round table in the back of the room. He was going to personally serve them tonight. Jim placed both bottles of wine on the table. Sal, placed a wine glass in front of Jim and Tiffany, and then with a wink and a nod towards Jim, in front of the rest girls. A large bottle of sparkling water was placed on the table as well.

"I suggest anyone who has never had wine before, if you'd like to try some tonight make it the Pinot Gris; it's lighter than the Chardonnay." Jim poured the Pinot for Jenny and Faith, while Tiffany, Rose, and Kristin asked for the Chardonnay. "Just remember girls, whatever happens in Cape May, stays in Cape May. Here's to a wonderful weekend."

They all clinked glasses and sipped their wine. After several appetizers, the group shared two large spinach salads, with walnuts, chickpeas, beets, and grilled chicken, and a large spinach and feta pizza. The food was delicious and the girls all appreciated being treated as adults. They weren't rushed, but when the wine was gone and no one wanted desert, Jim asked for the check, left a generous tip, and they all piled back into their vehicle and returned home.

It had been a long day for Jim, so after making sure the girls had everything they needed, he wished them a good evening and closed the door, confident that they all knew enough to stay on their side of the residence. Once again he had an erotic dream; this time he was making love with his wife. They were on the beach, in a remote section near the end of the beach close to the restricted Coast Guard Station. His wife was in the dominant position and had ridden him hard. When he woke up the next morning his chest was again wet and sticky.

His mind was reeling.

'I've got to do something; but how can I ask my daughter such a question? If she's not coming in here, she'll think I'm some sort of pervert for even suggesting such a thing; I'm not really sure I really want to know if she is. I've never locked the connecting door before, but I guess I'll have to now.'

He cleaned himself up, and since none of the girls were up he decided to go for a run.

By the time he returned, the sun had come out and it was the beginning of a beautiful day. When he was at his front door, he decided he'd better knock and announce himself before he opened it. He heard shrieks and doors slamming shut; then a laughing Kristin opened the door.

"It's a good thing you knocked; some of the girls were in various stages of dress. We're pretty used to getting dressed together because of gym class."

After breakfast Jim asked about their plans for the day.

"We figured we'd spend a good part of the day on the beach. Afterwards, we'll come up, shower, get dressed and, if you don't mind, have you drop us off at the boardwalk this evening. We'll eat there tonight. We'll call you when we need a ride home. We won't be too late."

"That sounds like a good plan to me. You don't mind if I spend some time on the beach this afternoon as well? I promise to give you ladies plenty of space. In the meantime, I'll be in my office; I've got some things I have to clean up."

Because their writing team had been pumping out books faster than their publisher would release them, Jim and Erika had an inventory of unreleased novels under their three pen names that could be used if Jim ever hit a dry spell. This was a dry spell of desert proportions. He copied one of them onto a thumb-drive, packed it in a bubble envelope addressed to their editor, took it to the post office and off it went. She didn't have to know that it was nearly two years old.

When he got back to his office, he looked over their inventory and determined that he could send her two or three books a year for at least four years before he'd have to start writing again.

'Maybe that's what I should do; just stop trying to write for a couple of years. Give myself a break. Let the creative juices build up before I start up again.'

After changing into his bathing suit and getting a beach towel, he walked down the stairs and onto the beach. The girls had staked out a patch of salty earth about halfway to the high water mark. The tide was already receding so by later in the afternoon the walk to the water for them would be twice as long. Jim chose a spot closer to the water's edge, laid out his towel facing the sun, took off his shirt, and stretched out onto his back. The sun felt wonderfully warm.

"Be careful, don't burn," he heard a few minutes later as the girls walked back towards their towels after returning from a stroll down the beach. "Your father's a hunk," one of them whispered to Kristin when she thought they were out of hearing range.

Jim just laughed it off. But the dream he had after falling asleep was anything but funny.

______ ____________

It was about five years ago; he had fallen asleep early that night. Erika was staying up to work on the latest chapter of his latest romance novel. When she had completed it she was hot as a pistol and wasted little time in relieving her pent up sexual energy with his still sleeping body. The next morning was Saturday, so he slept in; when he finally awoke, Erika was still in bed next to him, just waking up herself.

"Thank you, Garth," he was the male lead in the book she was editing. "You were such an animal; you wore me out."

Jim had no clue what she was talking about and it showed by the look of bewilderment on his face.

"You are amazing," she said with a hearty laugh. "How anybody can fall asleep so deeply is beyond me. You have no clue what happened last night, do you?"

Sheepishly he shook his head. And that's when she thought she'd have some fun with him.

"Last night, after I finished your latest chapter, the bedroom scene with Garth and Helena, I was really hot. I came in bedroom, pulled down the covers and climbed aboard. After about a half hour of nearly constant fucking and more orgasms than I could count, I finally got you to cum.