Who's That Girl?

The following day I left at dawn, before she awoke. She'd been a charming person for the few days we had known each other, but she disappeared from my memory rapidly except for a smoky wisp of innocent energy. She had been hardly more than a carefree child, and my world was a collection of adult responsibilities and never ending miles of remorseless road. That had been four years earlier.

It was hard to reconcile the elfin person of my memory with this lovely young woman adjusting the water temperature in front of me. Somehow she had matured to be a confident woman without losing the adventuresome energy and wide eyed wonder of the person I had known. There was continuity here, but there were also questions in plenty.

"Okay, under the water now." Her voice was commanding, almost motherly in it's tone. On the other hand, when she took me by the waist and steered me under the falling water the gesture could not be considered maternal. She maintained an unnecessary about of body contact as we were both coated by the stinging spray. "Let me know if the water's too hot."

"No, that's just about perfect." She released her hold on me, allowing the water to roll off my hair and body, rinsing the grime and sweat of the road down and out of the drain. She moved around in front of me and under the shower to scrub my chest. I raised my arms over her head and placed each palm on the wall behind her, making her task that much easier. It was a joy to have her touch me, and an unnecessary one. I would have been content to watch her bathe herself, but the added pleasure of her hands on my body was welcome.

Her method was efficient, and quite soon I felt as clean as I had been in weeks. Nor did she linger overlong anywhere, even washing my prick. If she gave it any special attention it was only to make sure it was clean, and she ended with a slight squeeze.

I allowed her to wash my hair as well, although it would have been quicker for me to do so. Then I rinsed carefully before opening my eyes. She was directly in front of me looking up into my face with the clear stare and content smile of a person sure of what she was doing. Her black hair was water slicked to the sides of her head, and droplets of steamy water twinkled over her skin almost like ornaments. I reached for her and drew her to me under the shower.

Our first kiss had been short; a sloppy peck that was a thank you as much as it was an expression of interest. Then our second kiss had been longer, more intimate, and bearing the promise of further enjoyment between us. This kiss was different.

Our bodies were wet and glowing with the heat of the falling water, and it felt as if we must hold to each other tightly or the other would slip away. I could feel every inch of her skin as it pressed against mine, and there was some relief to my aching prick as it pressed between us. Her breasts were similarly welcome, tight against my chest.

But it was the kiss which demanded my full attention. It was no quick peck, nor was it a gentle promise. Our lips met in an electric embrace as if we were well practiced with each other, and the tips of our tongues met repeatedly and intimately. I was lost in the sensation of her mouth, with the accompaniment of her body against mine.

How long we spent in that embrace is problematic. It doesn't matter. When we finally pulled apart it was not that we were tired or had finished, but rather that we were more longing to be in each others space than we were at that time. I maintained eye contact as I knelt down on the clean tile of the shower floor, drawing her down with me.

"Here?" she asked, almost wide eyed.

"And now," I replied as I lay her backwards on the tile and under the hot spray.

"There's a bed just down the corridor," she replied softly, although she showed no resistance.

There had been no considering this. "Do you want to be fucked, or not?" I teased her.

"You can fuck me anywhere, Simon, and as long as you like." This verbal invitation was accompanied by her spreading thighs and outstretched arms, welcoming me down onto the floor and into her embrace.

She took me into her arms and I folded mine around her slippery body, nestling down and rubbing my prick around her sensitive folds. I moved my hips, not entirely trying to find the opening, but also for the lovely sensation of rubbing the head of my cock on her flesh. I was as hard as I could be and ready to fuck, but now that I was started I was in no hurry. The expressions on Amy's face as her cunt was teased and touched were just too fun to watch.

My prick touched her thigh, and that caused a smile. Open eyed and and gentle she looked into my face happily. Moving it around I found her outer lips, moist and inviting. Her smile didn't go away, but her mouth opened and I could hear her short intake of breath. Ever so slightly I rubbed up and down, spreading and moving those lips while she sucked air over her open mouth in anticipation.

Finally I stopped, the head of my prick lodged just within her tight slit and twitching. She frowned slightly in frustration, and I saw her lips move as she silently uttered "Please". This was enough to urge me forward, and I pressed into her gradually. My cock spread her lips and slowly entered her until our bodies connected. "Oh god yes," she said aloud. "Fill me!"

I don't pretend to particularly large, as most men tend to. Baseless guessing puts me about average. Over the years there have been a number of women floating in and out of my life, and all of them have been different. With some the fit of cock and pussy had been pleasing and almost tailored. Others had been so loose that it would have required a stallion mule to properly fill them.

Amy was delightfully of the first sort. Her sweet little slit that I had enjoyed earlier stretched open to admit me as if we had been designed to be together. I slid in and out in a gentle rhythm and every nerve connected with it's counterpart inside her. With each motion I initiated, she initiated it's compliment by heaving herself up or wiggling about. How she knew I don't know, but every motion was perfect. I could have cum in short order, but this was so enjoyable I restrained myself. She was simply too delicious to fuck.

Soon she closed her eyes and turned her blissful expression to one side, but without altering her motions. In response, I closed my own eyes to listen to her breath. I began to hear a little chant of quiet words. Almost moans, but with meaning. "Oh, fuck me..." followed by "deeper." or, "Yes... Just there." Without realizing it I was doing just what she was asking, and enjoying every minute of it.

Once again, time lost meaning. Everything we did was just right in that moment, and all of it felt wonderful. When I came back to the moment it was because there was a change in Amy's form. She had wrapped her legs around my hips and was pulling me in tighter. At the same time she thrust against me even sharper.

"Oh, now Simon!" She muttered over her panting breath, "Fuck me harder, now!" I was only too happy to oblige, and sped up my actions. When I opened my eyes I saw her frozen in the act and only twitching below me. Some connection between us, or possibly the action of her orgasm itself, pushed me over the brink and I came in response to her commands.

When I came she let out a high pitched squeal of pure pleasure, and squeezed me again with every muscle of her body. I continued to gently fuck, while filing her pussy with spurts of sperm. Like the first time, Amy collapsed in a relaxed heap underneath me, and her legs and thighs dropped down from their positions. I fucked her a few more strokes until I was finished, and then reached out with a gentle hand to touch her cheek. Surprisingly, she had fainted.

I rolled off of her and picked her up in my arms, her pretty cheek resting on my shoulder. I stalled a few moments to let some of the residue wash down our bodies and into the drain before carrying her out to the bench. Seating her in a corner I scrounged around and found a large towel. I wasn't really worried about her unconscious state because her breathing was deep and regular and her complexion was pink and warm. Trying to be as tender as possible, I dried her body and face. An altogether enjoyable task.

It didn't take long before her eyelids fluttered, and she stared at me almost uncomprehendingly. Like a sunrise slowly exposed over the horizon, recognition of my face registered in her eyes and she reached for me. I was on my knees before where she sat, and we joined in an embrace much more cozy and less frantic than our earlier meetings.

"Do you always faint like that?" I had to ask, quietly to her neck.

Her words carried a grin that I could almost see. "Not always, but let's just say that it's happened before."

"Hmmm" I hummed against her skin. She smelled good, in a fresh spring way. Clean and very feminine. I slipped an arm around her waist, and began to lift her up again.

"Not yet, Simon," she said, stopping me in mid lift. "Give me a second to finish drying off. You need to dry off too."

She had a point. I fetched her a fresh towel, and retrieved the one I had previously used on her for myself. It's dampness didn't bother me, but the idea that it had just caressed her skin was a thrill in it's own right. Amy herself was finishing drying her skin and hair in her typical efficient way, although this caused movements and jiggles in her body that almost were a dance. She ended by wrapping the towel around her body, presumably for warmth. She certainly wasn't covering up because of me, and from my pervious experience with this household I knew that casual nudity was normally acceptable.

Taking my hand in her baby soft grasp and drawing me with her by the sheer force of her gaze, Amy barely gave me a chance to gather my things before leading me down the dim hallway. We passed perhaps a half-dozen doors before we reached the only ajar portal, which presumably was mine. When we left that room I have to admit that I was distracted enough not to notice which room I had occupied. Candy would not have been proud of me for that.

Unsurprisingly the room was undisturbed. I spent a few moments to hang my jacket and other gear in the closet, while unobtrusively retrieving my SIG. I quickly checked the magazine and the chamber before turning around. Amy had pulled back the bedding and was sitting provocatively, watching me, and generating a sultry smile. She had leaned back against her arms, and raised one foot up onto the bed to expose a fair bit of thigh under her towel.

"You think you're going to need that?" she asked in a voice both innocent and mocking.

Attitude aside, I wasn't going to let a good practice fall by the wayside. "I doubt it," I replied as I placed it on the nightstand within reach. "but I'm alive today because of habits like that."

"So what you do is that dangerous?" Suddenly she was serious.

"Sometimes. Less so than for other guys. Working for Candy has it's advantages."

"I suppose so," she answered while removing her towel and beaconing me into the bed by her side. "I talked with her."

Climbing into the bedding and drawing her into my arms, what she said barely registered. VOIP was insecure if paid for and dangerous if hacked. What could possess her to call a woman she didn't know on the other side of the continent didn't make sense. "Is that so," I replied in a muffled kiss on her neck.

For some reason she was fumbling down between us, reaching for my prick. The act of laying down with her had caused a slight reaction down there, but nothing warranting any immediate action. Finding it and noting it's state, she began stroking me lightly, gradually bringing it back to it's former stiffness. "Mmm-hmmm. Come on now, I want you inside of me."

I really hadn't planned on a repeat of the performance so soon, but her calm prodding had made it possible. Showing some exaggerated reluctance I rolled onto my back. As quick as that she followed on top of me, taking my refreshed erection inside her. She hugged me to her and I placed one hand on her shapely ass, the other in her hair.

Oddly enough, she didn't start to fuck me. "Okay not that I have your attention, I have something to tell you."

'Here it comes,' I thought to myself. I had known from the first second she came to me that there was something more to this whole encounter than what it appeared. Whatever it was I was sure I could handle it. Occasionally I have been known to be wrong in my beliefs.

"Simon, that last time when you left here..." Suddenly that confident seductress was gone and there was a hurt sound to her voice. "...why didn't you say goodbye to me?"

That was a difficult question, but one to which I had an answer. "I leave a lot of places that I may never go back to, Amy. In my line of work it's just... easier. Not saying goodbye."

"So it wasn't because you didn't care for me?" I felt a little wetness on my neck just below my ear where her face was resting.

How do you explain to a person like her, who has so naive about the ways of our shattered world? "I leave people all the time that I care about, and you must realize that I barely knew you then. It wasn't personal."

"I guess I can understand that," she replied, and I felt a squeeze down deep inside of her. "And you didn't know that I loved you."

It was the second time that she had mentioned that. It's part of my job to be attentive to people's attitudes and reactions, although somehow I had missed that on my first trip. Or possibly I unconsciously put it down to the crush of a girl only recently become a woman. What person could fall in love with someone only known for a few brief days?

"Is that why you came to me this morning?" I asked, as I ran my hands over her curves and gently moving hips.

She sniffed back a sob, then let out a slightly self-conscious giggle. "Not exactly. It's no secret around here that I'm a bit of a sex fiend." This was accompanied by a longer stroke, and if possible she felt tighter. "I wanted you. At least once before you left us, I wanted you. I thought you might leave again without saying goodbye."

What do you say to that? "I promise I won't leave again without saying goodbye."

"It's not just that. I'm not trying to make you change or anything, and if it's easier for you to just leave..." Almost I felt a shiver race through her small frame. "...I understand. It's okay."

I moved my hands away from her tight ass and just wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tight against me. The reward was her imitating my actions. For long minutes we just lay there, joined but unmoving. Her breath surrounded me, and our skin was warm where we touched. Far off in the household I heard the first voices of morning, distant and incomprehensible.

"I'm sorry Simon," Amy continued after a long deep breath. "I'm afraid to say what I've been planning to say, and even more afraid of your reaction."

"When I leave on a trip," I replied as if she hadn't said anything, "the first thing I do is make sure all of my equipment is in working order. That way I'm as ready for anything that happens as I can be. In your case you need to be sure you are prepared for whatever reaction I will make."

I paused there, hoping that bit of wisdom would sink in a little. Somehow I had a feeling where this was going, and I wasn't sure myself what my reaction would be. My brain seemed to shy away from examining the prospect.

"That's the problem," she said uncertainly. "Every reaction that's possible frightens me. Have you ever felt that way?"

"Every day. Some days I'd rather have the bad things happen just because I know how to deal with those, and when the good days happen I only think about how long it will be until the next big bad. It's a professional hazard. You become neurotically pessimistic."

"Yes. I think you do understand." Again there was the long pause when being in each other's physical presence was the most important thing. "Let me tell you a story then," she added softly.

"A long time ago, a man came here. He was different than my brothers and my nephews, or any of the neighbors around here. He was tall, and quiet, and strong. Some of my sisters and nieces would talk about him, and how every day for him was a trial. Every place he went unfriendly. They wondered how any person could live a life like that and remain sane? I kept quiet because he was always kind. On the night he arrived he sat in a chair holding a sleeping cat for longer than an hour, scratching it behind the ears.

"The next morning I brought him breakfast at the table. Anyone could have done it, but I made sure it was me. He was courteous, and not only thanked me but asked if I'd had breakfast yet. That evening when he returned he asked me what was for dinner, making sure I had eaten before he would let me bring him anything.

"For two more days I made sure that if he needed anything that I was there to help him with it. It wasn't hard. He never seemed to need anything but the occasional cup of tea while he was closed up in my brothers study with the people he had to meet. Then on the last day he was here I saw him working on his bike quietly in the early morning. I just sat and watched, and he didn't seem to mind. Then, when he was done he went to Jerry and asked, before offering to take me for a ride.

"I had never been on a motorcycle before and was thrilled. We rode all day, seeing places that I didn't even know were that close to my home and enjoying the open aired freedom. As the sun sank, he bought me ice cream before taking me home. This man, who was so alien to my family, was the first man who ever treated me as a woman and not a child.

"The next morning he was gone without saying goodbye. In tears I went to my brother to ask why. All he would tell me was that it was better this way, and that I shouldn't set my heart on him. I said that it wasn't fair, and Jerry agreed with me. Then he told me one thing that I'll never forget. "He's a good man, from a good clan. With luck some day he will come this way again and you can tell him."

"It didn't seem possible, but with Jerry's help I found out everything I could about him and his people. I learned about Candy, and what he did. The more I learned, the more I fell in love with the man I knew for only a few days. I lived my life, and I fooled around with the local boys, but he was always there.

"Then my brother told me you were coming back. He knew that I was still thinking about you, so he arranged for me to talk with Candy." Amy stopped her monolog for a moment, and when she continued I could hear a smile in her voice. "She was wonderful. We let our hair down and talked like old girlfriends for a long time. She listened to everything I had to say, and asked the best questions and gave the best advice."

"Yes, that's Candy," I added, nodding against her hair. "What was the advice she gave you?"

Amy was quiet for a very long time, and her breath on my chest was deep and slow. We were still connected in our deep lovers embrace, not moving though still aware of how close we were. When she finally spoke it was quiet, but resolved. "My bag is packed, Simon. When you go I want to go with you."

Now it was my turn to be silent. As a person who's used to making quick life and death decisions, this was a different set of circumstances. I had expected something much like this, but there was that inner part of me that wasn't ready for it when the truth was out.

"If it helps any, Candy said I'm welcome whether you bring me or I come on my own." I felt the wetness of tears on my neck again, although no sobs accompanied them. "You don't have to make a decision right away."

There are times when I have to make those life and death decisions when I don't know all the information. That's one of the things that makes me good at what I do. "You know that when I leave my home, there's never any guarantee that I'll come back?"