In my dream I am naked, enjoying the sensation of the summer sun on my body as lay upon a towel. The towel beneath me is warm, soaking up the heat from the boards of the wooden deck, and soft against my sun-kissed skin. I can hear birds chirping melodically back and forth in the trees that shield my yard from the neighbors. A pair of Monarch butterflies walk unconcerned across my chest, their distinctive orange and black wings open against the gentle breeze flowing over us. They are slowly making their way toward my increasingly hard nipples. For some odd reason the unhurried movement of the butterflies is mildly erotic. A throaty chuckle alerts me to the fact I may not be alone. In fact, as I yawn and rapidly blink my sleep bleary eyes, I become aware that instead of my backyard I'm lying in Tara's bed, though I'm still naked.

"Sorry," Tara says. "I didn't want to wake you; I was distracted by how responsive your nipples are."

She's right! My nipples have always been quick to pucker, but lately they've grown even more sensitive, seeming to swell and harden at the least sign of attention. Since I've been spending most of my free time with Tara, they are always either hard or on the verge of becoming hard. Looks like she noticed!

"No fair," I whine. "If you keep teasing me my nipples will be sore all day.

"What makes you think I'm teasing?" she asks innocently. Tara maintains eye contact as her long, somewhat raspy tongue slides out of her mouth. Slowly, deliberately, her tongue moves toward my chest, touching down just below the hollow of my throat. It travels down the center of my chest, soft and feather-light, before detouring across the modest swell of my right breast. Tara's tongue takes a lazy pass around the puckered skin of my areola. I shift my body, raising my chest to meet her, hoping that slick muscle will make its way to the hard nub of my nipple. Instead, Tara's mouth opens wide and gently latches onto my breast. I feel the sharp edges of her teeth on the sensitive skin of my tit, not enough to break the skin, but enough to give me the delicious fantasy of danger.

"Sssss," I inhale sharply then moan. "Oooooohhhh... I love when you do that!"

"You love everything I do you little slut."

For a moment I have the strangest desire, a desire to make sure Tara knows her place. To let her know I'm the dominant one in this relationship. Then my eyes focus and I can see the grin on her face and the twinkle in her eyes. She's only playing! The feeling passes as quickly as it arrived and I'm left feeling relaxed and languorous. Almost of their own accord my legs fall lewdly apart. I pull Tara so that she is now lying atop me, my spread open thighs framing her petite, but still curvy body. My hips move in a slow, up and down motion that is not completely under my conscious control. Above me, Tara's body rests against my frame, her enormous breasts, pressed hot and tight just below my own. I feel the weight of her testicles resting on top of my hairy pubes as I raise my hips, only to feel them slip away as my hips push back into the mattress. My eyes close. I press my face into Tara's long, chocolate colored hair, inhaling the scent that is uniquely hers. The bliss I feel is nearly overwhelming.

My hands run down her back, feeling the numbers on the Carolina Panthers jersey she wears as a nightgown. I'm pleasantly surprised when I reach the hem and draw it up to find Tara is naked underneath. I let my palms play along the curve where her back meets the upper slopes of her buttocks, rubbing the soft skin, and enjoying the heat of Tara's ever warm body. When I've had my fill of feeling up her lower back, I let my hand travel lower to the generous swell of her round bottom. I love Tara's ass! Her hips flare out a bit, really only in comparison to her tiny waist, but her cheeks are large and firm like a cyclist or gymnast. Her ass cleavage is awesome and I love to spread her cheeks and run my fingers around her little puckered starfish. I let my fingers play: squeezing, kneading, rubbing and even a little poking of her receptive crinkle. Tara's breathing is becoming deeper.

We stay like that for a while, me rubbing and playing with Tara's ass and her giving much wanted attention to my aching tits. I've just started to notice Tara's hips syncing with mine when I hear her say, "Your hairy little beaver is tickling my nut sack!"

I can't help the laughter that bubbles up from deep inside my soul. "Need you, baby," I croon and pull her body tighter to me. Her cock is hot, heavy against the skin of my abdomen; I feel tiny flutters in my stomach and groin. Tara circles her hips, letting me feel the dimensions of the hard slab of girl-cock between her legs. Her erection is truly enormous. Though her balls rest on my pubes, the length of her penis rises up and over my belly button. Her bell-shaped head rises nearly to my breasts.

"You want this?" Tara asks, giving her hips a quick thrust.

"Yesssss!"

"Ah, ah, ah," she says, "no nookie unless you make me feel pretty."

Tara slides down my body and takes her immense erection in hand. She taps it lightly on the light brown fur of my pubes, then slides the wet, tapered head around the entrance to my sex. Our juices mingle, letting the glans glide up and around, over, back and forth across the slick, wet folds of my pussy. "You have the most beautiful hair," I say. "It's soft and the color reminds me of a rich, dark chocolate. When I see your pouty little lips all I want to do is kiss them until they break into a smile. And your tits! Your tits are freaking unreal. They're so big, so soft, but there's no sag in them at all." I'm shushed by one of Tara's fingers pressing softly on my lips.

"It's lovely to hear those compliments," she says and the look on her face is both earnest and longing. "But that's not what I meant. I want you to make me feel pretty."

At first I can only stare at her in bewilderment. Then I look again at the longing in Tara's face and realize what she is asking for. Tightening my core, I sit up using just the muscles of my abdomen. My arms, which are open wide, reach out to enfold Tara in a tight embrace. I scoot forward on my ass so I can wrap my legs around her as well. A couple of quick tugs later I've pulled her to me so that even though we are still sitting on the bed, her legs are scissored with mine. When we are as close to one another as we can possibly be, I raise my right hand and run it through the long, dark waves of Tara's hair. I pull it to me and rub it against the side of my face, inhaling the sweet fragrance of Tara and shampoo deeply. I'm watching out of the corner of my eye, so I see when Tara's eyes flutter closed and a small smile plays upon her lips.

My fingers trace a quick path down the silken locks, then rise up to cup the smooth cheek of Tara's face. I pull my head to the far side of her face and plant my cheek next to hers. This gives my hand tracing the other cheek the access it needs to move softly down along the line of her jaw before rising up to trace a line around those bee-stung lips with my thumb. I'm not surprised when Tara's lips part and her long, pink tongue slides out to flick wetly against the pad of my thumb. We keep this up for a few moments, me tracing a slow path across her lips and dipping a bit into her open mouth, and Tara teasing my thumb tip with her tongue. Tara pulls back a bit and breathes, "Yes! Jennifer. That's it. Keep going."

That's all the encouragement I need! I pull her back into me, then twist Tara toward the bed so she is now lying on her back beneath me. Her hair has spread out behind her and looks like a chocolate waterfall against her shoulders. Tara's hazel eyes are open and watching me intently. I lean down, letting my own dirty blonde hair tickle her face and shoulders before placing several kisses to Tara's lips. I kiss one corner of her mouth and then the other, my lips firm and mouth closed. My lips part slightly, sucking Tara's bottom lip into my mouth. I run my tongue along her lower lip, enjoying the softness of her skin. Beneath me, Tara's breath has grown shallow. I wait for her lips to part and when they finally do I slip just the tip of my tongue into Tara's warm, moist mouth. I tease her, flicking my tongue against hers then retreating to taste her lips again. Her mouth opens wider, inviting my tongue to enter more fully, but I have other ideas. Moving lower, I plant a chaste kiss on Tara's chin and then both sides of her collarbone. Her hands come up to rub and caress my head and hair.

With a quick movement I grab both of her hands in mine, then shift one arm so I am now holding both her narrow wrists in one of my hands. Tara's eyes open in surprise and I give her a warm smile before slowly raising both her arms above her head and pinning them to the bed with my left hand. Now for reasons that are not yet clear to me, Tara is ridiculously strong and she could easily break my hold. Instead she gives me a rare wide smile (revealing her very sharp, very white teeth) and a playful wink. I wink back, throw my hair behind my ears and lower my mouth to the huge boobs so breathtakingly displayed before me.

Tara's skin is olive-toned so her breasts have dusky pink areolas with big, stiff nipples. The breasts are a perfect tear drop shape and they are soft, warm and succulent. I rub my face against them, enjoying the softness of Tara's skin, the ever-present warmth that radiates from her body and the very erect nipple showing me that Tara is as turned on as I am. After exploring Tara's breasts with my cheeks and forehead I let my tongue slip out of my mouth. I lick all around both breasts, being very sure not to touch or contact her nipples in any way. When both breasts are wet and shiny with my saliva I put my face between them, using my one free hand to press her near boob firmly against my face. I lick the soft skin between her breasts while smooshing my face with her big knockers.

Tara laughs, then sighs as I continue titty-fucking my face. Beneath me I feel her small frame wriggle with anticipation. I stop easing my face between her boobs and raise my mouth to her mouth-watering nipples. Tara's nipples are thick, surprisingly long and they slip into my mouth like candy drops. My tongue flicks the turgid nubs, running across the pebbled flesh in a quick fevered search. When I've left her nipples wet and achingly hard, I begin to suckle them lovingly and offering gentle caresses with my palms.

I reach beneath me, spreading the lips of my pussy and lining myself up with the rampant erection below. I drop my weight so my slick, fragrant cunt is resting lengthwise on Tara's shaft, not taking it inside me, but simply running myself along the limits of its length. Her hard, wide cock is fever warm against the delicate tissues of my slippery lips; its heat ignites my passion and makes my hips grind in a quick circular motion. Beneath me, Tara must be equally enamored of the moist heat between my legs, the heat which even now is coating the sensitive skin of her penis, because when I moan in both need fulfilled and need not yet quenched, she is right there with me! "Oh god! Jennifer you are driving me nuts," Tara groans while arching her back to push her hot meat into my shimmying snatch. She makes a feeble attempt to raise her pinned arms.

The pressure of her hips and cock on my sticky clam is neither feeble nor unappreciated, so when Tara whines, "I want to be inside you," I happily comply. I ride her hard and fast, alternating between rocking my hips back and forth so that the cheeks of my ass splay and rub upon her crotch and thighs, and rising up to take her inside me with long, deep strokes. With my free right hand, I make sure to play with Tara's nipples. I don't neglect my own nipples either. That's just me; I'm a giver like that! The sound of her dick sliding in and out of my wet pussy fills the room.

It's not long before that free hand decides to take a southern detour, down to the land of tingling clit. I play with myself the way I like: rubbing with the pad of my index finger from the base to the tip, stroking it like a miniature dick with my first two fingers, diddling it gently with the tips of my fingers as I rub it in increasingly quick circles. I'm driving to a massive orgasm when Tara rumbles deep in her throat below me. GGGRRRRWWWWLLL!

I don't stop the jilling of my ready to explode clit, but I do manage to open my eyes to the breathtaking sight of Tara thrusting into me from below. Her hands are still pinned above her head, making her smooth round titties sit high on her chest, dancing and rolling with the motion of her pumping hips. Eyes shining a bright gold, Tara has caught her bottom lip between those sharp, dangerous teeth. She watches me with rapt attention. Well, part of me anyway. Her gaze is locked onto the motions of my free hand, watching me as I pleasure myself. Like me, Tara is very close to orgasm!

"You enjoying the view, sweetie?" I ask.

"mmmmm hmmmm."

"You gonna cum soon? You wanna drop your baby batter in my sticky box?"

Tara shakes her head no. She says, "I wanna cum on your bubble butt!"

The thought of being taken from behind is very appealing to me right now. I bounce on the thick stick inside me a couple more times, then slowly slide off Tara's cock and release her trapped hands. I give Tara a broad smile then crawl toward the opposite end of the bed, making sure to shake my hips and put on a good show. When I reach the perfect spot I cross my arms in front of me, drop my head to rest on my forearms and spread my legs wide. My ass is in the air with everything on display. I can feel the air around me cooling the juices dripping from my open cunt. My sphincter squeezes and relaxes as I give my girlfriend a saucy wink. It has the desired effect.

Tara glides behind me, taking the globes of my ass in her small, but firm hands. "Do that again," she says. I do. I squeeze and then relax my starfish, all the while moving my hips in an enticing circle. Tara slides her thick, long stick into my pussy, working herself up into a steady rhythm that has her hips slapping against my gyrating ass cheeks.

Lately Tara has become fascinated with my tight little anus, kissing and teasing it with her tongue and fingers. Today is no exception. Once she's established a good fucking motion, Tara's hands begin to explore the soft, flushed skin of my ass crack. Her thumbs spread my cheeks as wide as they will go then slowly circle back toward the crinkle of my hole, a pattern that repeats itself endlessly it seems. Combined with the good hard fucking I'm receiving I'm soon panting with need. I arch my back some more and push back with my hips so that the thumb which had been lazily circling my asshole suddenly pushes against the ready opening and sinks in just a bit. "Ooooohhhhhh Fuuuucccckkkk!" I moan and push back more until my cheeks are flush against Tara's hips.

As I move forward Tara sinks her thumb deeper into my rectum even as her cock slips from the grasping walls of my pussy. It doesn't take long for us to find synchronicity: her cock slipping deeper into me as her thumb slips from the opening of my ass, her thumb plunging back into my backdoor while her cock head teases the opening of my leaking clam. I'm feeling a trembling deep in my belly as my orgasm approaches. Behind and above me I hear Tara mumbling, a sure sign she is ready to cover my ass in sweet, caramel flavored cum.

It takes me a moment to figure out what she is saying, but by and by I'm able to make out the mumbled words. "Gonna cum on my mate! Gonna cum all over my mate!" Soulmate! I'm Tara's soulmate! My orgasm shoots through me, flashing light sparkling behind my tightly closed eyes, even as the walls of my twat and ass spasm around the still thrusting dick and thumb. I'm shaking, riding that moment of bliss for all its worth, riding Tara for all I'm worth. Mate!

By the time my orgasm runs its course I'm as limp as wet tissue paper. I pull away from Tara, from the cock and thumb that still try to plumb the depths of overworked pussy and clenching asshole. I roll onto my back, thinking to take Tara's turgid cock into the moist cavern of my mouth, but she has other ideas. Her golden gaze has locked onto my hairy pubes, just as her tiny hand has locked around the girth of her juice-slick penis. Her other hand snakes beneath to cradle and caress her balls. Both hands are moving at a frantic pace!

"You want some help with that?" I ask.

"Yeah...um, sure," she mumbles, mind obviously focused elsewhere.

Wriggling my newly painted toenails, I raise my left foot between her legs, positioning my toes so they are perpendicular to Tara's body. My toes move higher and higher until they are just touching the seam of her ball sack, gently bouncing and manipulating the nuts inside. I can tell Tara is enjoying the attention because it doesn't take more than a few seconds for her to begin thrusting her hips in time with my little piggies.

"Oh god, Jenn...you're gonna make me spurt."

"Do it, baby!"

"Unggghhh... oh fuuuuuuccccckkkkk!"

The first cum shot hits me right above my clit, dribbling down over my love button in a pearly-white mess. I'm always amazed at how hot it feels against my body. The next two shots hit me squarely in my dirty-blonde pubes. A fourth shot misses the mark and hits the crease of my thigh. The final shot falls short and lands on the slick folds of my well satisfied twat. Oh my! The size of the load she has left is prodigious and I leave my legs spread wide as can be knowing how Tara enjoys seeing her handiwork. Tara has the widest grin on her face as she views my cum covered pussy; my grin is nearly as wide as I take pride in knowing I've caused such a passionate response.

When Tara raises her gaze to mine I almost blurt out an 'I love you'. I'm worried though, worried that if I start talking I'll tell her everything that's in my head, everything that's in my heart. Tell her I daydream about spending the rest of my life with her, my goal is to move in with her and perhaps someday raise a family with her. But I don't say any of what I'm thinking. Is it too soon? Who knows? Tara did say I was her soulmate. Is she having the same internal conversation I am? I don't know. I do know I'm going to be cautious and reel my prey in slowly. My prey? What a random expression. Tara's clearly got me rattled.

Of course all this passes through my head with the all the speed of one of my computer systems at work. Meanwhile, Tara cuts her eyes down to my crotch then back up to mine with an expression that causes my stomach to flip flop and my Kegel muscles to clench in anticipation. Tara's tongue slides out of her mouth and curls to press upon her upper lip before testing the sharpness of her extra-long canines. "You look very sexy all covered in my cum," she says. "Good enough to eat I'm guessing!"

Even as she is speaking, Tara grabs my nearest foot in one strong hand and scoops a dollop of her creamy cum up with the other. She makes sure I'm watching. When she knows she has my undivided attention, Tara rubs her sticky mess over and between my big toe and my second toe. Another grin and then my foot is raised to her slutty mouth. Tara sniffs the cum and my foot, seeming to savor the aroma of the two together. I can't help but wiggle my toes in both challenge and anticipation. Tara doesn't disappoint.

Her tongue snakes out, long and wet and slightly rough against the tip of my big toe, sliding through the jism she has put there. She does this for a moment then pops my toe into the warmth of her mouth. I don't even try to stifle the moan erupting from my throat. Tara sucks my toe gently, letting her tongue swirl over and around the piggy. When she has cleaned her spunk from my big toe her tongue dips into the space between my toes, slurping her cream even as she tongue fuck the digits. Tara takes each toe into her mouth, sometimes individually and sometimes with one or two other toes, licking them, tickling them and bathing them in the warmth of her mouth. She grabs more of her cum, gathering it up from my hip and pubes only to deposit it on the toes of my other foot. Again Tara mouths each toe, loving on my foot while eating the essence of her baby batter like it is the finest meal she's ever tasted. I'm in heaven!
Finally, she's cleaned as much of her cum off of me as she can, but Tara doesn't stop there. She pulls a bottle of lotion from somewhere on the nightstand. The scent hits me at almost the same moment as the lotion's tingle when Tara begins to slowly and softly rub it into my feet. Her motions are sensual more than erotic, seeming designed to relax rather than arouse me, though looking down my prone body I can see Tara is definitely deriving pleasure from her service! Her cock, which only moments ago covered me in the liquid essence of her ardor is again hugely erect and leaking pre-cum onto the sheets. I sigh, as content as I can ever remember being.

"You are the best," I say with complete sincerity.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm lucky to have you."

"I agree. Since you're feeling so lucky maybe you could hook a sister up?" As she says this Tara is wiggling her eyebrows and looking down suggestively.

I laugh, "Sure, what'd you have in mind?"

It feels like I'm being hauled to the edge of the bed even before the words have left my mouth. Tara holds my feet in her hands, raising my legs until my feet are held at the waist height. "Tara, you are a nasty, nasty girl," I say in my sexiest voice. She doesn't answer, but Tara gives me a huge grin even as she continues to raise my bare feet, guiding them closer to the enormous erection she is sporting. The soft soles of my feet are slick and shiny with the peppermint lotion Tara applied after lovingly licking each individual toe. My pearlescent pink toenail polish looks wet and sexy in the morning sunlight streaming through Tara's bedroom window. My feet are placed to either side of the wide shaft of her cock. Its heat blazes against the sensitive skin of my bare feet.

"Ready?" she asks.

Tara doesn't wait for an answer, she just starts thrusting that hot cock between the slick, peppermint smelling soles. I'm mesmerized by the contrast between my pale feet and the dusky, olive coloring of the dick sliding wetly between them. The tapered head is even darker, a color midway between pink and purple and I wish my feet were just a bit closer to my mouth so I could wrap my tongue around that lollipop shaped glans. I squeeze lightly with my toes, making a tighter seal that her penis head must pass between. Tara groans her satisfaction.

She continues foot fucking me for several minutes. Her eyes, completely gold again, roam my body appreciatively. Before I know it, I'm not just a spectator I'm an active participant, my fingers squeezing the small mounds of my breasts, my thumbs and index fingers searching for and then finding the thick, erect nipples. I watch Tara while she is watching me, seeing the play of the muscles of her belly and hips, rhythmically flowing as her hips speed up. A steady drip of pre-cum drips down to my belly only to fall to the bed below as it slides willy-nilly down my shaking body. One of my hands inches down my flank, drawn almost magnetically to the viscous fluid dripping from Tara's schlong.

I use my hand to rub the slimy juice across and into the skin of my belly. It leaves my skin shiny and warm, fragrant with the smell of hot caramel. I bite my bottom lip to stifle a moan. I'm only partially successful. I feel closer than ever to Tara at this moment. I can almost feel the racing of her heart, feel her arousal rise as she watches me play with her pre-cum. I let my hand drift lower, while I wiggle my toes on the head and top part of Tara's shaft. My feet, slick with lotion and pre-cum make a squelching sound not unlike my pussy when I'm really wet and aroused. Finally my hand slides through the damp curls of my pubes, my middle finger leading the way to the tip of my very erect clitoris. I circle the nubbin slowly, playing with my love button while I gauge how close my lover is to cumming.

"Yeah, Jennifer! Play with yourself just like that," she huffs. "I want us to cum at the same time."

I know it won't take me long to reach my peak. From the way Tara's hips are thrusting her junk back and forth between my soles it won't be long for her either. I slow my finger's circling of my clit, giving myself a little bit more time before I reach my orgasm. With my other hand I begin the movement I know will send Tara over the top. Swiftly I bring my off hand down and around my hip, using the index and ring fingers to spread my pussy lips. Tara takes a nice long look at the wet, creamy center of my love box. I take another moment or two then dip my middle finger into the entrance, making sure to get the tip nice and wet. I pull it out slowly, letting Tara see any sticky strands that may still be attached to my very wet opening. Now for the coup de grace! I take well-lubed middle finger and slide it down and around the crinkled skin of my anus and then with a sigh I plunge the finger into my anus to the second knuckle.

"That is so freakin' sexy!" Tara cries. Her hips stutter. "Damn girl, you're gonna make me cum! You're gonna make me cum HARD!" Action is melded to words and Tara begins to shoot wad after wad of spunk. The first shot is mostly contained by my feet; Tara's cock is deep between my soles for that one. The next several shots though fall on my chest and face as my heels are pulled to the very base of the long, thick phallus, leaving the head free to spew a load even bigger than the previous one. "Ungghh...uuunnngg...ooooooohhhhhhh!"

Seeing, feeling the hot sperm landing on me triggers my own orgasm. All the nerve endings in my pussy are firing, exploding with goodness and my muscles contract with the fierceness of my release. To Tara's credit, she holds onto me throughout, even with all of my thrashing about. She is staring down at me when I finally come back to reality. The grin on her face is absolutely enormous! Tara's eyes are back to their normal hazel color, leaving the mixture of pride and awe in them on full display. I'm only mildly surprised when she lays down on top of me, the cooling pools of cum making our torsos feel slippery and nasty in a good way, snuggles in tight and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek. Tara's body heat feels amazing on my skin, taking away the chill I was starting to feel now that I wasn't distracted by arousal.

"You make me so happy," Tara whispers.

"You make me happy too," I reply. "That's an incredible way to start the day! A girl could get used to that sort of thing." Her giggle stirs the hairs trapped by her face on mine, tickling my ear and making me giggle too. God! She makes me feel so young.

Our cuddling is interrupted by the brazen sound of her phone, the jarring alarm putting paid to our leisurely morning. Today is Saturday and Tara's shop will be at its busiest. Me, I'm headed out to Winston-Salem to visit my Mom's gravesite with my sisters. Her gravestone was delivered this week and I want to be sure she has some flowers to let her know she is missed.

"I wish I could go with you," Tara says squeezing me tight. It's almost like she has caught the train of my thought. "I could call the people I have scheduled for today and cancel their appointments. That way I could go out to Winston-Salem with you."

She'd made the same offer last night, but the reality of the situation is the only time she would have to reschedule those appointment would be on Sunday and Sunday is our special time together. I'm unwilling to give that up, but the offer does chip some of the ice off of my heart. "No. You should take care of your shop. I doubt I would be very good company anyway. Plus, I'll have my sisters to keep me company."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," I answer just as her phone goes off again. Reluctantly she releases me and rises to make her way to the shower. Her steps are slow and shuffling, not at all the normal gracefulness I am used to seeing from Tara. She pauses outside the bathroom door and turns back to look at me.

"Hey," she says, "we need to talk about some things when we have a chance."

"Ooooo, sounds ominous. Is something wrong?"

"No! No nothing's wrong...its...well... some things are changing and we should talk about what they are and what they mean for us."

"Hmmmm. Does this have anything to do with why you haven't cum inside me this past week?" I ask. Her face, neck and even the tops of Tara's shoulder turn a deep shade of red.

Her hands cover her face for a moment, then push upwards into her hair which she fluffs out. "Yeah," she responds, "that's definitely part of what we need to talk about. And sooner would be better than latter."

"You told me you couldn't get me pregnant. Were you lying when you said that?"

"No, I was telling the truth, but now...now that we're so much closer I think maybe I could possibly get you pregnant."

The quick smile that slips across my face before I school my features does not go unnoticed. Tara's whole demeanor goes from uncertainty to saucy faster than she can cross a living room and that's pretty fast. She starts to pad across the bedroom floor with the slinky, easy glide I've come to associate with sex. I hold up my hand to stop her because neither of us has the time or energy for another round of sex. At least I don't. Who knows about Tara? "So what's changed in the last week?"

She answers with a shrug and says, "Me. You. Us. I don't want to go into it now because it's pretty important you understand everything."

"I see," I reply. "I guess we'll have to talk tonight then."

"So then I'll see you tonight?"

"Probably," I say. "It will be a full day driving out there and back, but I should be back around the time you close up shop." The last part of my sentence is interrupted by the hronkking of Tara's phone. "Get in the shower already. That alarm is terrible."

"I know right! That's why it's so great. I could never sleep through that sound."

***----------***

The mirror is not my friend this morning. Though the makeup I have applied is flawless, it can do little to hide how terrible last night was. It was a long week; I was tired. Sleep should have been all but guaranteed. Sadly, things didn't work out that way. I spent the first couple of hours tossing and turning in the bed, at times throwing off the covers because I was too hot, then later pulling them back on when I got cold. I tried reading, but I couldn't focus enough to get into the story. Watching tv was a bust too, 184 channels and still there's never anything good on. Warm milk. Fail. Sleep remained as elusive as El Dorado.

I take a last look at my too pale face, frowning at the purple tinged half-moons under my eyes. Generally, I have no trouble falling asleep. I exercise on a regular basis. There are no great stressors in my life. I don't have a history of insomnia. No, there's only one reason I couldn't sleep last night. For the first time in two weeks Tara and I slept apart. By the time Tara closed up her shop last night, she was too tired to make the drive out to my place. Being pretty beat myself, I decided against making the twenty minute drive over to her apartment. Big mistake! Instead of spending a little more time on the road I ended up spending a whole bunch of hours not resting. Epic Fail!

It wouldn't normally be that big a deal; today is Sunday after all. The problem is I agreed to meet some of my friends for a picnic and I'm bringing Tara. I'd really hoped to look my best what with my young twenty-something girlfriend. I don't want to look like some old, pathetic has been dating a younger girl to prove I still have "it". Oh well, can't be helped now. As I always say, 'it is what it is'. I grab my keys off the counter and jump in my Jeep for the drive over to Tara's.

***----------***

Twenty minutes later I'm at Tara's place. Before I can even knock to let her know I'm here, the door is flung open and Tara has launched herself at my chest. I'm grabbed in a bear hug that is only just shy of being painful though I don't complain, it feels too good having her back in my arms. I can feel her body trembling. "What's wrong? What's happened?" I ask, fearing the worst.

Tara's face is buried against my chest. She doesn't raise her head, but she does reply, her words vibrating on my chest as she speaks. "Nothing's wrong, I've been missing you. It was a rough night. Promise me we won't do that again! Either I'll come out to your place or you come over to mine. Every time. At least for a little while." The trembling eases as she speaks, the words acting as a release for the tension she is feeling. I'm aware that the tightness in my own chest has eased. I squeeze Tara back as fiercely as she is squeezing me.

"Of course, sweetie," I say, "either your place or mine. Every time." Tara backs away, flashing me one of her rare wide grins and turning to head into her apartment. I stop her by grabbing onto her arm as she is moving away. "Hey wait. When did you have a chance to get your hair done?"

Tara runs her fingers through her hair, pulling the thick, glossy locks away from her face and pulling the mass over her left shoulder where she can look at what I'm seeing. The first night I met Tara her hair appeared to be a deep sable color virtually indistinguishable from black except in bright light. Perhaps I was mistaken, because the next time I saw her her tresses were a warm chocolate brown. Now, Tara's hair is chocolate brown shot through with strands of blonde nearly the color of my own hair. The coloring is fantastic, not streaked or uneven, patchy or brassy, just an even smattering of individual blonde strands circulated amongst the darker strands. I lean forward, sniffing Tara's hair for the tell-tale signs of hair dye which should be assaulting my nose but aren't. A dye job this good would have taken all day at a salon; this isn't something you could have done on the spur of the moment.

"Do you like it?" Tara asks. I notice she doesn't answer the question I asked. She continues, "I did my nails too!" I look at her while she wiggles the fingers of her right hand and the toes of her left foot, the nails a bright, cheerful, fire-engine red.

"They look great," I answer, "but when did you have time to get that done? Did you blow off the clients you had yesterday?" Now I'm starting to get annoyed. If she was planning to skip work anyway I would have appreciated her coming with me to see my mom's grave.

"Hey, don't be mad. I didn't blow off work and I didn't blow you off either. I told you yesterday that we needed to talk." Crap! It's like she's reading my mind or something. I feel a little tingle in my spine. This is definitely some weird shit! Tara pulls me deeper into her apartment, where I stumble behind her, my body struggling to move with coordination while it struggles with the weight of this development. Tara is clearly aware of my confusion because she continues, "I know this is weird. I have to say you're doing really well with things so far. Don't give up on me! We'll talk tonight after we come back from the picnic, ok?"

"Yeah, ok." I answer.

"Guess what?" Tara asks.

"What?"

"I did stop by the jeweler's yesterday; I got you something. Hope you like it." Tara pulls a rectangular, black jewelry box off of the side table sitting next to the front door. She opens the box. Inside is a beautiful gold chain, long, with delicate oval links beveled to catch light. "Do you mind if I put it on you?"

"Ok," I answer softly. "Hey...this may sound weird, but did you read my mind just now?"

Tara frowns. "Not...um...actively."

"So...what you're saying is you did read my mind. Passively? Not actively."

She reaches up, taking my face in both of her hands. Tara's thumbs are making small, gentle circles on my jawline. "I'm saying when you are thinking about something as hard as you were a minute ago it's hard not to pick up on it. And for the record, you do the same thing to me all the time. You just don't recognize it when you're doing it." Tara says in a huff.

If I was reeling before, I'm damn near dumbstruck now. Tara finishes putting the chain around my neck. She adjusts the clasp so it is sitting at the back of my neck which reveals a small key, dangling at the bottom of the chain, nestled between what would be cleavage for another woman. The key is really very small and somewhat oddly shaped. "So what's this," I ask "the key to your heart?"

"Nope! Not the key to my heart, but maybe something almost as good." Tara's smile is warm and a little bit mischievous. It settles my nerves like a stiff drink.

"Ok," I say, brisk and controlled again, "let's get this show on the road. You ready?"

"Yep, let me get my sandals and we can go."

I take a second look at Tara, noticing that we have put on virtually the same outfit. Like me, Tara is wearing a three-quarter length sundress with silver-colored sandals. Where her dress is mauve with teal paisley designs, mine is yellow with bright orange flowers. The thin straps and somewhat low back are showing off the gladiolas tattooed on my back and neck. By the time Tara has put her shoes on I'm rummaging through my purse trying to find my sunglasses. Because of the time of day I'll be driving directly into the sun; without my sunglasses it'll be a miserable trip.

"Damn it! I think I left my sunglasses back at the house. I don't suppose you have a pair I can borrow."

"Nope, I never wear the things. I hate to have anything on my face." She gives me an odd, appraising look. "Maybe I could help you out though. We'd be pretty late if we had to go all the way back to your place to pick them up. Come on, let's go get in your truck and I'll see what I can do."

Tara moves over to her coffee table, picks up a sketch pad then leads me out the door and into the parking lot. While I start up the car and begin driving, Tara is quickly drawing in her sketch pad using deliberate strokes of her pencil. It's not long before I see the shape of my kitchen counter taking form beneath the steady scratch, scratch of the pencil on the paper.

"Why are you drawing my kitchen," I ask.

"Isn't that where you left your sunglasses?"

"Yeah, it is, but I never told you that."

Tara stares at me for a long moment, her hazel eyes clouded with some emotion I can't quite determine. Wariness? Resignation? Finally, when the stare reaches the point I'm about to say something Tara asks me a question. "Do you ever a get premonitions? I'm not talking about feeling a certain way or guessing that something is going to happen. I mean knowing that something is going to happen and then it does. Does that ever happen to you?"

"No," I reply, "I don't think I've ever had something like that happen to me."

"Well I do," Tara says. "And I can tell you I had a hell of a premonition this morning. Today is a big day for us. A make or break day." Tara has continued to draw while she is talking and I've continued to drive, mostly on autopilot, but most of my attention is clearly focused on my girlfriend. "I don't know exactly what is going to happen, but something happens today that takes away my choices of letting you learn about me over a longer period of time. I'm hoping to show you that not everything about me is bad."

"Nothing about you is bad," I answer quickly, but there is a smidgen of doubt deep in my brain.

"Well then this is a bonus. I think it's kind of neat; I hope you do too." By now, Tara has finished drawing her picture. She stares intently at the picture, a drawing of my sunglasses sitting neatly folded on my kitchen counter, then abruptly sets the image aside. "Here we go," she says. "Try not to freak." Tara holds both hands up in the air, palms perpendicular to the road and facing the front of the car. Sneaking a peek at me out of the corner of her eye, Tara breaks the plane of her hands and ... her right hand disappears, ending in a flat, smooth cylinder at the wrist.

"Shit, Tara!" I scream. I take my own right hand of the steering wheel long enough to grab Tara's arm and haul it back. Fortunately, the missing hand is still attached to the wrist.
"Well that was a bust," Tara mumbles beside me. Her hand, once again fully attached dips down to her side, twists and comes up with something small and dark. My sunglasses! She hands them to me without a word.

"How... how did... what did? Damn!" My mind is struggling! I study the sunglasses in my hand, noting the tiny tooth marks on the tip of the left earpiece, the part I grip with my mouth when I fumble for my keys. They are clearly my sunglasses. There's no mistaking the notches and dings they've acquired over the last year. This is like what she does with the lube and massage oil, only this time she's done it in front of me! Next to me Tara is frowning, her jaw clenched tight and her mouth pursed in a hard, straight line. It makes me grin. Fierce little Tara!

"Hey," I say, "don't be mad." I try to rub her arm, but she pulls it away.

"Why not?" she asks angrily.

"Because I let you do lots of nasty stuff with me." That got her. I can't turn to look at her, there's enough traffic on the road that I have to keep most of my attention on driving, but from the corner of my eye I can see she's looking at me. "And this is kind of a big deal. I don't think taking a minute to catch up is any big deal. C'mon be my girl again and I'll let you feel me up while I drive." Tara groans in a good natured way.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm stressed. I'm scared to death of losing you."

"I told you babe, you're stuck with me now. You shouldn't have kidnapped my heart, you thief!"

"Remember that tonight," Tara mumbles.

"So tell me how you got my sunglasses."

"It's magic. I'm magic. All the time my body is building up magic. I have to have a very clear image in my mind of what I want to bring to me. Once I have the image fixed in my head I can reach out and bring it to me. For things I've pulled to me before I don't even have to concentrate very hard."

"So...you could grab a calculator or a remote control?"

"Anything really. I don't physically use my hands to bring it to me, the gesture only helps with my concentration."

"Oh. That is very, very cool. So if you studied my phone for a while do you think you'd be able to call that to you too?"

"Not a problem," Tara chuckles. "That's probably the number one thing I have to magic to myself too."

The rest of the trip is relatively quick and painless. I park the Jeep along the edge of my friend's yard and start getting out when Tara grabs my arm.

"One last thing," she says. "You know that you're everything to me right?"

So stinking sweet! "You're everything to me too," I answer back.

"Good! Then you'll be able to keep your temper when your friends start touching me."

My fists clench and I have to close my eyes while I count to ten. The thought of someone else touching Tara makes my shoulders tight. I want to scream. I'm making a low noise deep in my throat and I don't want to hold it in. "Breathe," Tara says, leaning in close and rubbing my arms with her hands. "It's the magic," she continues, "it makes people want to touch me. When people touch me some of my magic is transferred to them; it makes them feel good so they keep touching me."

"Why do you let them touch you then?" I ask.

"Because when its someone that I'm close to doing the touching the process reverses and my body produces more magic. It makes me feel good too."

I'm jealous. Ridiculously jealous. I want to be the only one who touches Tara. Tara is MINE! I keep breathing, taking as much air as I can, then breathing out until there is nothing left to come out. I do it again and again. In. Out. In. Out. Tara is not some knick-knack I can put on a shelf and keep for myself. If I try to treat her like she is I'll lose her. I'm sure of it. I'm nearly ok with Sydney and the rest of Tara's friends touching her. How much worse could this be? One more breath and I think I'll be capable of rational speech again. Maybe! "It's not a problem," I say. Even though it is.

Tara looks at me. She smiles and gives me a kiss. "Liar," she says.

One kiss becomes two. Two become four and before I know it I'm making out with Tara in front of my friend's house. I'm pretty sure I'd have gotten myself under control before I did something stupid, but I'll never know because the next thing I know someone is knocking on the window of the truck.

"Hey Jennifer, you think you and your girl can stop sucking face long enough to come in and say hi?"

I look at Tara, wink and say with a smile, "I don't know, you think we can stop sucking face long enough to say hi?"

Tara leans across me, offers my friend Barb a quick smile and says, "Hi!" When she's finished with her greeting she gives me a quick peck before getting out of the truck.

I get out as well, receiving a prolonged hug from Barb. Then Barb turns to Tara. At first she reaches out her hand, I assume to offer a shake, but as she draws closer her left arm opens wide. I can see the urge to touch Tara, to be in contact with her blossom in my friend Barb. Barb's face is practically alight, her smile both huge and sincere as she draws my girlfriend into a hearty embrace. "Well aren't you a looker?" she says to Tara when the hug is over. "I'm Barb by the way. You must be Tara? Thank you for coming today, everyone is so excited to meet you after hearing Jenn go on and on about you for the last few weeks." As per usual the words just pour out of Barb. Her husband is away, stationed in Germany until the end of the year and she is starved for adult contact. She continues, "You two are about the last to arrive, we're only waiting on Luis and his family. The kids and I spent all day yesterday setting up and decorating the back yard so come on in."

Barb hooks her arm in Tara's, hooks mine as well and leads us inside without asking or waiting for a reply. Same old Barb! Tara's too short to see me over Barb's shoulder, but I can feel her tension, feel her nervousness at what my reaction will be to Barb's extended touching. Honestly, I don't quite know how to feel. On the one hand my stomach is tight with an instinctive urge to protect what's mine even from one of the dearest friends I have. On the other hand it wasn't just Barb's face that lit up with the hug, Tara's face in the moment of embrace was almost angelic, her hazel eyes wide and shining, the tiny creases of the smile lines around her mouth showing. How can I deny her that? How can I deny her anything? I love her!!!

The three of us break apart as we move into the house and through the kitchen to the back deck. I'm about to say something light, something funny to let Tara know I'm okay with her being herself when Barb interrupts my train of thought. "Jeez, Jennifer what did you do?" she asks.

"Rough night," I say. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Didn't get much sleep, huh? We should all be so lucky. Of course I hear you're quite the lady in the sack," she says giving Tara a nudge with her shoulder. Tara's blush starts at her hairline and extends halfway down her chest leaving her beet red from her head down to her shoulders. Barb doesn't even notice. "God, Jenn you're a year older than me, how in the world can you look so stinking young. Did you have a Botox injection?"

Tara may be embarrassed but she doesn't miss a beat. "I think all the sex with me is keeping her young," she quips.

Barb stares at us for a minute then sighs, "I hate you both. The way I'm going through batteries these days you'd think I had stock in Duracell. Anyway, there's beer and other alcoholic drinks in the red coolers, soda, juice boxes and water in the blue coolers and tons of food on the tables. Make yourselves at home." She hurries away to spend time with the other guests, but before she gets too far away Barb turns back, "BTW love the tattoo chick. Your mom would've tried to cut those flowers and put them in a vase!"

I look over at Tara and say, "Its good to have friends who can stroke your ego. I know I look like a hot mess."

Tara chews her upper lip for a moment trying to decide what to say. Then slowly, reluctantly shakes her head no. "You look terrific."

Yeah right! "You must like the bruised look of baggy eyes."

"No bags there," Tara mumbles. "We're joined now, for better or worse. We'll keep sharing: thoughts, feelings, and energy until we reach equilibrium. Go look in a mirror if you don't believe me."

"Wait here," I say. I go to the downstairs powder room with the intention of finding a mirror. I shut the door behind me before turning on the light. Unbelievable! Tara's right. The bags are gone. So are the fine wrinkles next to my eyes and the laugh lines around my mouth. I look five years younger. Maybe more. I lean closer to the mirror, checking the image for the handful of grey hairs that appear in my hair. Nothing! I stare at myself in amazement, happy almost beyond belief, but nothing in life comes for free. What's the price for this transformation? What's the flip side? 'Something happens today that takes away my choices of letting you learn about me over a longer period of time '. That's what Tara said and I don't think this is it.

I make my way out of the powder room and back outside. Tara is where I left her on the deck. I'm about to discuss this latest development when my friend Luis and his family walk through the door. Tara shoves me roughly behind her and I get a glimpse of the speed and power Sydney had warned me about. "Do you know that man?" she asks pointing at Luis. Her voice is rough, low and menacing, a voice rife with impending violence.

"That's Luis," I say hurriedly. "He's a dear friend of mine."

Tara is still shielding me with her body, one arm on my hip keeping me behind her. "He's in a gang," she says, "a really bad one."

"Luis isn't in a gang. He's a detective in the Raleigh Police Department. Has been for years."

By the time we've finished speaking Luis is stalking toward us. No smiles from my dear friend now. He's all business. Luis isn't a big man, maybe 5' 9" or so, but there is a hard, dangerous edge to the man. Moving with a grace that subtly hides the sharpness of his movements he makes his way to Tara and me. "What did you do to me, chica? What the hell kind of a tattoo did you give me?" His wife Arianna and son Luis Jr (LJ for short) are just behind Luis.

Arianna is a petite blonde with a short pixie cut, but there's no mistaking her will or presence. She may be small, but her willpower is like Mt. Everest. She's in charge in that family and there's no mistaking it. Right now the anger is building in her face like a storm clouds massing on the horizon. The wise will run for cover! "Who is this young girl, Luis? More importantly what is she to you?" She asks her husband.

Luis doesn't answer her which is odd because I've never seen a more complete, more in tune couple. His steely eyes are locked on my girlfriend. "What did you do, chica?"

Tara doesn't give an inch. She's no longer threatening, but its clear she means to keep Luis away from me. It would be cute if the situation weren't so tense. "You said you wanted a tattoo," Tara words whip at Luis. "A gang tattoo. You said you wanted it, but no one could have wanted that tattoo less than you. I tried to talk you out of getting it. You know I did! I even told you I'd fix it when you were ready. Don't blame me for your mistakes!"

Luis' voice is every bit as sharp as Tara's. "Yeah you tried to talk me out of it and damn near blew my cover. You nearly got me killed you idiot. Now I can't get rid of the damn tattoo. I had the fucker lasered off. It came back! How the hell does a tattoo come back after being burned off with a laser? Because of you I haven't worn a short sleeve shirt in four years!" Hmmmmmm. Always wondered why Luis wore long sleeves. Guess I know why now. Luis pushes back the cuff of the long sleeve oxford he is wearing unbuttoned over a black t-shirt revealing a tattoo that covers the front of his right forearm. The work is beautiful, but the image is ugly somehow.

Tara grabs Luis' arm tightly. "Why didn't you come back?" she asks. "I told you I'd fix it for you."

"I did come back to the shop," Luis responds. "Richie said you'd left town."

Tara is still holding the arm, her hand clamped to the offending tattoo. "That da..," she looks down and sees LJ who has moved so that he's holding onto Luis' leg. "Hey, cutie!" Tara says looking down into LJ's face. She looks back up at Luis. "That darn Richie. I did leave his shop, but only to go to Wake Forest and open my own. He's such a hack. He's afraid I'll steal his customers. Anyway, I can still fix it if you want. I've got some Sharpie markers in my bag. If you let me mark on your arm I can show you what it would look like."

Luis is looking at Tara with wonder. Remember, Tara is drop dead gorgeous, but he's not looking at her in that manner. His look has more of the awe you might see looking at something majestic like the Grand Canyon or Niagra Falls. Meanwhile Arianna is looking back and forth between her husband and Tara. The storm clouds have vanished and there is a thoughtful, hopeful look on her face. I noticed a definite softening in her aspect when Tara said hello to LJ; Arianna loves her little boy fiercely. "Go ahead," Arianna says to Luis. "What do you have to lose?"

Tara guides us over to a picnic table that is only lightly covered with plastic utensils and other things. She's in her element now, directing Luis to pull up three chairs, and having me sit on one side of the bench table. Tara looks at me and says, "You remember how Syd helped me with your tattoo? I need you to do the same thing for me today. Will you help me?" Her face is so expectant, so earnest, I wouldn't say no even if wanted to. I definitely don't want to say no in any case. Holding Tara closely for an extended period of time. I'm in! Tara sits in front of me, pulling my arms until I've scooted into a position where my front is firmly pressed to her back. I wrap my arms around her middle. "You can lay your head on my shoulder if you want," she calls. Did I mention I'm in!

Now we are all in position. Luis sits in a chair pulled so it is at the head of the table in the center of the three chairs Tara asked him to bring. Arianna is sitting to his left and LJ is oddly enough placed in the chair closest to the arm Tara will be working on. Tara tells him, "You have to watch close to make sure I don't make any mistakes, ok?" LJ gives her huge grin before putting a serious look of concentration on his face.

Tara reaches into her purse pulling out a stack of Sharpie permanent markers rubber banded together. She has a black marker of course, but there are colors here I never knew sharpie made. There's yellow, gray, brown, red, green and more. She straightens Luis' arm out, beginning to work without fanfare. "So how long have you been a cop?" she asks Luis.

"Not quite ten years," he answers.

"Do you still do undercover work?"

"Not since LJ was born. I needed more stability."

Tara replies, "I understand. Family has to come first. How am I doing so far, LJ?"

LJ's answer is so darn sweet I want to scoop him up. "You're a good drawer. You're pretty too. You wanna get married when I grow up?"

"Quit trying to steal my woman," I call over Tara's shoulder. I can feel Tara's happiness. I can feel it. It's the strangest sensation to have first-hand knowledge of someone else's emotions. The only thing I can compare it to is giving a mental hug. That's what it feels like, like holding her emotions in my mind. Weird!

I can't see over Tara's shoulder so I watch Luis and his family instead. Arianna is trying to look everywhere at once: down at Luis' arm, over at Luis, up at Tara, even darting glances at me. I wonder if it is the speed at which Tara is drawing.

"Jesus, chica?" Luis sighs.

"Luis..." Arianna's voice is questioning, but also a little bit impressed.

"Almost done," Tara interjects, oblivious to Luis and Arianna. "Ok. What do you think? Told you I could fix it for you!"

"How...?" Luis looks like he's been poleaxed.

Arianna is nearly as stunned, but she at least is able to get a complete sentence out. "Do you have it with you, Luis?" Luis reaches into his back pocket pulling out his wallet. He hands Arianna a laminated card of some type. Arianna glances at the card briefly then reaches across Tara to hand the card to me. Turns out the card is actually a picture. Oh! It's a picture of Arianna from a few years ago. The picture is a candid one, not posed or staged like you might imagine. The picture shows Arianna from the waist up. In the picture Arianna's hair is still long, moving as she turn to face the camera. She is smiling, no she's laughing and her face simply glows with health/youth. There is a sparkle in Arianna's eye the picture has captured; somehow it gives me the impression Luis was the photographer. It's a nice picture, Arianna looks amazing in it, so carefree, so fluid, but I fail to see any relevance to anything we're doing right now.

"Come around here Jennifer," Arianna says.

Crap! When I've moved to the side I can immediately see that Tara has recreated the photo on Luis' arm. Not just a similar picture, but a near perfect reproduction of the photo I'm holding, somehow incorporating the ugly gang tattoo so it fades into the design of Arianna's shirt. There are words written above and below the picture: Para Felicidad, Para Amor. "What does it say?" I ask Luis.

Luis answers me, but he is staring at Arianna. "It says: For Luck, For Love. I say those words every day before I go to work. Anytime I'm feeling down or need to catch a break really."

"So how do you know about this...," I'm at a loss for words, "all of this?"

Tara answers, "He was holding this the night I gave him the gang tattoo. Like it was his lifeline or the only thing keeping him halfway sane."

"But how would you even remember something like that?" I ask Tara. Then I remember the trick with the sunglasses. "Do you have eidetic memory?"

"No," she replies, "but my memory is very good for pictures and images."

"Can you really do this, Tara?" Arianna asks.

"Sure. Most of the pieces were put in when I inked the original."

Luis asks, "How much chica?"

Arianna cuts him off. "Doesn't matter. We'll pay whatever the cost is. If that's what you want. Do you want to have my picture on your arm permanently?"

"Of course I want to have you on my arm, mi novia," Luis answers hauling Arianna in for a hug.

"Okay then, when do you think you can ink him Tara."

"I'm pretty booked right now. Maybe I could do it on the first Sunday of next month." She looks toward me, silently asking if that would be okay since Sunday has kind of become our special day to be together. I give her a nod.

We've all gotten up from our seats by this point, hashing out dates and times to get Luis' tattoo started. I've completely forgotten about LJ when I hear his cute little voice ask, "Ms. Tara is it my turn now? I want to look like Iron Man!"

***----------***

Tara and I have a terrific day. In the end, she uses grease paints to give all the kids silly faces. LJ's Iron Man paint is too stinking cute. Tara spends a while playing tag with the kids which gives me some time to catch up with my friends. Later the adults play a very suggestive card game. Some of the comments are risqué, some are extreme and some are simply gross, but we have a ton of fun during the game. True to her word, Tara is careful to keep the touching to a minimum. I don't understand why this is bothering me so much. Tara seems to be expecting it, making allowances for my unreasonable jealousy so maybe this is one of the things we'll be talking about tonight.

The sun is starting to dip and fatigue is starting to set in, my late night is beginning to take its toll. Tara and I are sitting together on a swinging bench beneath a huge, old oak tree. "We should get on the road soon," I say. "I'm going to go get a water and then we can say our goodbyes. You need anything?"
"I'll take a water too. I think I've had enough beer for today."

"Okay." I make my way to the deck where the coolers are sitting. Grabbing two waters out of the blue cooler, I turn to see Monday, Barbara's cat, slinking across the deck's railing. There is a bird feeder hanging from a pole attached to the corner of the deck. A robin is sitting on the railing's edge just beneath the bird feeder, seemingly unaware of Monday's stealthy approach. I watch, fascinated by the cat's movement, slow, methodical, designed to catch its prey by surprise. The muscles beneath Monday's shiny coat bunch and roll as he stops in a crouch, hind legs pulled in tight, front paws extended toward the little bird target. When the pounce comes, it comes in a flash of fur and a blur of wings, leaving Monday unfulfilled on the very edge of the railing, his bird meal winging away to safety. Monday turns to me as if to say I've done something to prevent his successful hunt and his eyes catch the light of the failing sun, turning from hazel to liquid gold.

Oh god! NO! It can't be true! But it is true; I feel the truth in my bones, in my very soul. I turn to where Tara is still sitting on the swing. I see the gleam of gold streaming from her eyes too before she gives her hand a twist, pulling my sunglasses off my face and placing them on hers. "Don't worry," I hear Barb saying from behind me, "old Monday misses way more than he hits these days. I think he only hunts the birds out of habit now." I give a weak smile, but inside my stomach is cramping in pain, torn up by my fear. Tara is one of them. Tara is one of the Ska'a.

The Ska'a first appeared almost six years ago, slipping around Mars in a spacecraft the size of three football fields put end to end. By the time they landed in Antarctica several months later, they had made contact with every government here on Earth. You can imagine how big a deal that was. First Contact! There were only a few government officials on hand at the actual landing, but every news service in the world had cameras there capturing video of the first aliens to come to Earth. The Ska'a filed out of an opening in their spacecraft, two thousand and thirteen of them to be exact, arranging themselves in a long sinuous line as they observed humans in the same manner we observed them.

They were beautiful! Tall, well over six feet in height with the males only slightly taller than the females and lithe with muscles that ripple beneath black outfits (uniforms maybe?) with unique white designs. The Ska'a look something like Earth's big cats in humanoid form. Oh there are some differences to be sure: no tails (not that I've seen or heard about), slimmer faces, ears set to the sides of their heads rather than on top. But if the Ska'a aren't quite in the same family as our big cats they're certainly kissing cousins. The Ska'a coloring is varied and not always what we humans would expect from natural creatures. Sure they have tawny, black, brown, gray, silver and white in their coats, but in general those are secondary colors, the colors of stripes or rosettes, zig-zags and whorls. The Ska'a are primarily deep purple or blue or green or red, usually in hues so deep they are nearly black.

The first move the Ska'a made was to offer the world improvements in combustible engine technology. Smart people (aliens?) those Ska'a. Making stops in most of the major cities of the world, they would purchase an older vehicle, make some kind of secret improvement to the engine and then run the vehicle either in laps around a track or on a highway. A big production would be made of purchasing gas, filling the tank up and then driving until the tank was empty. They averaged nearly five hundred miles to the gallon. And it didn't make that big a difference in the make or model of the vehicle or whether it ran on gas or diesel. Even SUVs and pickup trucks got nearly the same mileage. The news media outlets were going crazy. When the Ska'a offered to sell the secrets of the engines to the highest bidder the oil producing countries, oil companies and auto industry formed a consortium. They paid the Ska'a fifteen trillion dollars in 2.5 trillion dollar installments. I'll give you three guesses whether or not that technology actually trickled down to the average driver and the first two don't count. Go figure!

Anyway, the Ska'a took some of the money they made off of that sale and built a factory in Arizona. There they built a small device that could be added to a car or truck's catalytic converter to completely eliminate carbon dioxide, carbon monoxide, nitrogen oxides (hell, maybe some other oxides too), and hydrocarbons leaving engine emissions as nothing more than water vapor. Built it cheap too! They sell them for $22.50. By the end of their first year here on Earth the Ska'a already had a deal to retrofit every car in California. That state had made it mandatory equipment on all cars registered in the state. By the time the Ska'a celebrated their second anniversary of the landing date they were selling the device to every auto manufacturer doing business in the United States. Like I said, the Ska'a are smart people or whatever they should be called. But don't be fooled! The Ska'a are not tree-hugging, Birkenstock sandal-wearing, pot smoking environmentalists. They're killers! They are violent, brutal, terrifyingly fast, savagely strong serial killers!

Things got real bad with terrorism not long after the Ska'a made their deal with the oil industry/auto industry consortium. Probably because it showed just how much some groups have and how little others are forced to get by on. Whatever the reason, things were pretty terrible. Bombings, mass poisonings, abductions, you name it and it was being done somewhere. Mostly in the Middle East and Africa, but it was a problem everywhere including Europe, Asia and the U.S. too. At first, the Ska'a were fairly mum on the subject, but when it became apparent that the problem was too big for any single government to get a handle on, the Ska'a stepped in, ostensibly to help.

Help! Fuck, they stepped in to kill. I remember the day Father, the leader of the Ska'a, held his press conference in New York City. He was so handsome, his hide a deep, crimson red with nearly vertical slashes of dark purple, dressed in a charcoal gray Armani suit. Stepping up to the microphone he said, "We have seen the problems your world is having with terrorism. I will send the Little Sword to help." Nineteen words! That was all he said. The Little Sword is apparently the title for a particular Ska'a warrior. In their language it translates into something along the lines of a "right hand man" or "problem solver."

In any case, a big production was made of selecting the group of Ska'a warriors who would be helping the Little Sword. A group of forty-nine warriors were hand-picked by the Little Sword to fight the terrorist epidemic. And fight it they did! In groups of two or four or eight, sometimes in groups as large as ten the Ska'a swept across the Middle East killing anyone over eighteen with the slightest connection to terrorism. They would appear suddenly, in random locations, huge and fast and terribly savage, swinging enormous five and six foot long broadswords capable of cutting through cement, metal and human flesh with equal ease. If you were a terrorist you died. If you provided cash or other material support you died. If you gave shelter or succor or aid of any kind you died. Didn't matter to the Ska'a if you were the lowest, meanest rebel or a government official sitting behind a desk, if you were involved in terrorist activity you died. To prove the killings were not merely random, the Ska'a sent terabytes of data to the news services detailing exactly how each individual was involved, how they had helped to perpetuate terrorism. Somehow the physical evidence made the killings even worse for me.

Several of the more well-known and well-funded groups tried attacking the shelters the Ska'a had created to facilitate their various missions. Those attacks invariably failed and grisly reminders were left stationed around the Ska'a shelters as a warning. I never was sure if it was a warning for the terrorists, the country governments and armed forces or humanity in general. I can tell you those attacks on the Ska'a stopped when it became apparent that no one, no matter how near or far away the culprit, was safe from Ska'a reprisals. By the time the Ska'a had "cleansed" the Middle East, Africa and Europe, persons in the United States and all across Asia were turning themselves into the authorities, providing proof of their own crimes and accepting harsh punishments in an effort to avoid the ultimate punishment of death. When the Little Sword and her group of fifty Ska'a warriors were finished 563,259 people had been killed. I know the number by heart. Most humans probably do. The Ska'a kept a running tally on the billboards they purchased. They're still up in every city where the Ska'a still maintain shelters. A threat? A warning? Possibly, but you never hear those governments complaining. At least not publicly.

Why? I'll tell you why. Many of the world's governments made complaints to the United Nations. Asking for war reparations, demanding the Ska'a be tried for war crimes or human rights violations. Father was ordered to appear before a full session of the U.N. Security Council. He did. Father and the Little Sword arrived in New York City amid a maelstrom of demonstrations and media coverage. Father, as per usual was dressed in a slick Armani suit, while the Little Sword was covered head to toe in the black/white combat uniform of the Ska'a. Before the two Ska'a could be escorted into the U.N. headquarters everyone in the vicinity became violently ill with vomiting and uncontrollable diarrhea. Seems the Ska'a neglected to tell us old humans, you know the owners/caretakers of the planet, that unless they actively suppress their natural ferocity no person can stand to be within a few hundred feet. And it's not based on poisons borne by air or toxins (we know now because our scientists have tested) its just fear. Fear of a bigger, stronger, faster, morally ambiguous predator. The meeting with the U.N. Security Council had to be postponed for three weeks while the sick recovered.

Father and the Little Sword eventually met with the Security Council, though it didn't seem all that productive. When he was asked to account for the human rights violations the Ska'a committed, Father stood before the lectern tall and dapper in his high-priced suit. He adjusted the mike, looked at the seated members of the Security Council and the several hundred video cameras on hand, and Father smiled, showing enormous, sharp teeth. Then Father held up one of his hands showing thick, dark crimson claws. He waited a few seconds so everyone could see those deadly claws then Father used them to shred the Armani suit leaving him naked save for a covering around his crotch and thighs. Each muscle in his arms, chest and legs was starkly revealed, the crimson and deep purple of his hide shone glossily under the lights. And he spoke, spoke just four words in his deep, gravelly voice. "We are not human!" Then he and the Little Sword left. To my knowledge the U.N. never contacted them again. Thoughts of the Ska'a flash through my mind far quicker than I can recount, and in truth I probably only spend a moment remembering the Ska'a's war on terror.

No, my real focus is on Tara. My stomach aches and my chest is so tight I can hardly breathe. My thoughts circle and clash in my mind like a tornado rampaging through a mobile home community. Oh god! Tara is Ska'a. But Tara is so sweet and loving. Tara is Ska'a. But Tara holds me at night. The Ska'a are nothing like humans. But Tara is my everything! My whole world is wrapped up in her. The Ska'a are killers without remorse. But Tara is mine! Tara IS MINE! That thought fills me with warmth and love, dispels the fear and reservations I have about Tara's heritage. Regardless of what she is, or can do or may become in the future: Tara is mine!

I look over to where she is sitting, still in the same position where I left her, still as a porcelain statue. I make my way back to the swing. Tara's head moves as I approach so I know that behind the sunglasses she is tracking my movement. She just sits there though, unmoving, not saying or doing anything to give away what's going on inside. Only, I don't have to guess what's going on inside. I feel her emotions nearly as strong as I feel my own. Tara is scared. Scared to death of what I will do. Or what I will say. It breaks my heart. I've scared my girl and it feels like the weight of the world sits on my chest.

"Hey, you okay?" I ask, though I know she is anything but okay.

Tara reaches toward me with one hand, but stops before she touches me. "Just give me a chance, Jenn. Please don't leave me tell we've had a chance to talk. Please don't go. I need you! You're my mate; we belong together." She's trying her best not to cry.

'You're my mate...' The words make my belly flip-flop, heat spreads out from my middle and blood rushes to my core even as I feel my cunt begin to moisten. 'You're my mate...' Ffffffuuuuuccccckkkkk! I clamp one of my hands over Tara's mouth to silence her. If she says it again there is no way in hell I won't get down on my hands and knees, rip off my panties and present myself for fucking. The thought alone has my thighs rubbing together. Still holding my hand over Tara's mouth, I take a couple deep breaths to center myself. Then I tell her what I think about leaving her. "You need to get it through that thick noggin of yours lady, you are mine, MINE! Today, tomorrow and every day after that you will still be mine. I will never leave you and I will NEVER let you get away!" By the time I finish speaking, my voice is rough with emotion and I'm very nearly growling my words.

A couple of tears slip beneath my sunglasses, rolling down Tara's cheeks before falling to the skin of her chest bared by the sundress. "You promise?"

"I promise!"

"Ms. Tara! Ms. Tara! My mom says we can't cut the cake 'til you and Ms. Jennifer come. Please come now. Say you'll come now."

LJ is bouncing around us frenetically. I doubt Arianna really intends for him to have more sugar. Oh well. She should know I never pass up the opportunity for sweets. "C'mon guys," I say taking Tara in one hand and LJ in the other, "let's go eat some cake."

***----------***

We leave Barb's place not too long after finishing the cake. Our drive home, well back to Tara's apartment seems longer than the trip up. The silence in my truck is oppressive, perhaps because it's so crowded, what with Tara and I in the front seats and the big ass elephant in the back. Tara is miserable in the seat next to me, shoulders hunched, hands clenched tight in her lap. Her gaze has been locked on the window since we started moving. It's dark out so there's not much to see and even if it was still light out the scenery along the highway is fairly unremarkable. There's a knot of tension in the back of my mind mirroring the knot of worry in my belly. The one in my head belongs to Tara. I'm not sure what she's worried about, but I can feel her building a wall to shield herself from being hurt. It breaks my heart. I've spent the last five or six miles trying to think of a way to break the ice. So far every idea seems lamer than the previous one. But at this point even lame is better than nothing. I hope!

"You're quiet tonight," I say in the lightest tone I can make.

Tara snorts, "Right back at you."

Touché. "Yes, well you see I am driving. I'm doing my best to concentrate and keep us safe. You on the other hand are sitting in the navigator's chair, but since I already know where we're headed you have nothing to do except keep us entertained with conversation." My B.S. quotient is very high!

"You know you want to say something," Tara fires back hotly. "That or you don't care at all and you're taking me back home to drop me off so you never have to see me again!"

The words are coming out of my mouth before I can stop them. "How in the world can you be Ska'a? You're so freaking tiny!"

"I'm big enough where it counts!"

"Did you...just turn into a thirteen year old boy?"

She leans her head back against the headrest. "Sorry," Tara says. "I'm stressed out. I want to talk to you about being Ska'a. I have for a while, but every time I try to bring the subject up I lose my nerve. I'm terrified that you'll hear what I have to say and leave me." Tara's hands, balled into fists, are pressed hard against her belly. "Ask me something. Anything. I'll tell you the absolute truth." She turns to look at me for the first time all trip. Tears are leaking from her eyes. "But I can only answer one question tonight. That's all I have in me tonight." She visibly deflates, going back to the hunched posture from before.

One question. I have enough questions to leave Siri with a dry throat, how the hell do I narrow it down to just one. And looking at Tara I wonder if she even has the nerve to answer a single question. I thought I understood despair when my mother died. What I'm feeling from Tara is hopelessness. I'm guessing she feels trapped by the vastness of this confession, feels even more strongly that divulging the secret will push me away for good. One question. One question with so much riding on it. How the hell do I decide?

My mind races with my indecision. Time develops a weird duality, feeling too short to choose wisely and yet each moment I go without speaking lasts interminably. Fools rush in where wise men fear to tread. Well hand me my dunce cap. "What's my surprise?" I ask.

"Wha...What?"

"What's my surprise?" I ask again. My voice is stronger, more confident. This is the right way; I'm sure of it.

"But...you can't..."

"You said I could ask anything I wanted. Right now I don't really care about your being Ska'a. So I'm asking about something I do care about. So...what's my surprise, chick?"

"Seriously?"

I've turned my attention back to the road, but I can feel the weight of Tara's stare. "Seriously," I answer.

Tara cocks her head to the side, appearing to give the question some thought. Finally she answers, "Do you want the short version or the long version?"

"According to you, the long version is all I can get from you."

Tara snorts, this time in an amused way. Slowly a smile spreads across her face and I can feel her tension falling away. "Well...your surprise has a big visual component so...you'll have to wait to find out what it is."

"You suck," I say.

"Nope. I mean I used to, but now that we're together I have you to suck it for me." Her hazel eyes are twinkling now and Tara's mouth has taken on the devilish smile that makes my pussy wet. Her face goes serious again. "How do you do it, Jenn? How do you keep picking me up when I get low? Like it's effortless for you."

Luck!? "We pick each other up. That's what you do in a family."

"But we're not family."

I shake my head no. "That's where you're wrong," I say, "we are family now."

"Family," she says, testing the word. "I like that!"

***----------***

The rest of the drive is much more amicable than the start. By the time we've reached Tara's apartment we are back to being ourselves. Tara bolts out of the Jeep almost before the wheels have stopped moving. She races around to my side, giving me a tight bear hug before taking both of my hands in hers. "Listen. I'm going to go in and jump in the shower. As much as I would love to shower with you right now you have to wait outside. If you don't you'll ruin your surprise."

"I have to wait out here in the parking lot?" I ask.
"Of course not silly. You just have to wait outside the bathroom." Tara pauses. "You didn't lose the key did you?"

"No. It's still here." I say as I lift my necklace, showing her the little key at the end.

"Great!" Tara turns away, moving back toward the door to her apartment, only to rush back over to me. She plants a big, sloppy kiss on my mouth. "You are the best mate ever!" She runs into her apartment, not bothering to even close the door before she is pulling the mauve and teal dress over her head.

'...best mate ever!' I try my best to look around the parking lot, checking to make sure there is no one watching, but my mind is so engulfed with lust I simply cannot be sure. Before I can complete my admittedly cursory search, one of my hands is tweaking my achingly erect nipples through the fabric of the dress. The other hand is palming and squeezing the fat, hot lips of my cunt. I shake my head, trying to ignore the effects of Tara's words. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to keep from jilling off right there in the parking lot! I'm shaking and sweating, nearly mad with sexual frustration, by the time I'm able to force my hands away from my genitals. Shit! What the hell is it with that word: MATE! Every time Tara says it I cream my freaking panties.

I make my way through the open doorway and into the kitchen. I get some milk out of the fridge and drink it down without stopping. The milk cools my heated body, but does nothing to cool the warmth of my leaking cunny. My eyes keep straying to the hallway, beyond which is the shut door of the master bath, creating conflict within me. I want, I need Tara...now. But I don't want to ruin her surprise. I make my way down the short hall. That's wrong. I stalk my way down the hall, stride long and sure, and into the open bedroom where I begin to pace in frustration. Want Tara! Somewhere in the back of my mind I am appalled at my Neanderthal-like behavior, but it is a very small voice amidst the storm of my want, my need. Tara! There is a deep rumble coming from deep within my chest. It slips between my slightly parted teeth with a throaty GROWL.

My back is to the bathroom door when Tara opens it. "Almost finished," she says. "You're doing really well; your self-control is impressive." The door shuts and locks before I can catch more than a glimpse of black on red.

Resuming my stalk of the small bedroom, I make my way around the bed, over to the far wall, before coming to a stop at the head of the bed. I climb onto the bed, too keyed up to rest, yet needing to find some way to calm myself down. Something draws my attention. Sniff. Sniff. I lean down to one of the pillows. I can smell the perfume Tara wears, the shampoo she uses, and overriding it all her own personal scent, the mix of caramel and fruit with just a hint of something earthier that is so uniquely Tara. I lay face down on the pillow, inhaling Tara's scent, letting the smell encompass me. Soothing. I relax, muscles going limp. My need is a banked coal, smoldering, only waiting to be stoked or for fresh air to make me burn hot and bright again. I eye the door to the bathroom, my gaze simmering, but methodical. My prey is waiting. My prey?

The bathroom door opens, slowly revealing the top of Tara's head as she peeps around the edge of the door frame. "What'd you do?" she asks.

"I didn't do anything. Why?"

"You feel different."

I smile. It's true; I do feel different. Stronger. More in control. Funny how sniffing the pillow helped give me my legs back. "What are you hiding? I ask." She's still peeping around the edge of the door jamb. Her long chocolate hair shot through with lighter blond strands hangs in the air, backlit by the bathroom's light. It's gorgeous. I say, "Come here. Please."

Tara steps into the bedroom proper wearing a red baby doll with black lace around the edge. The piece lifts her enormous breasts and puts them on display, revealing a scandalous amount of cleavage with a hint of areola. Her movements make the front of the nightie billow open and close, a metallic glint peeping through intermittently. She looks amazing. I feel my heart give a tiny lurch.

"What do you think?" she asks.

My reply is heartfelt, genuine. "You are absolutely gorgeous! Spectacular!"

"No comment about the rest?"

I'm confused. What 'rest'?

Tara reads my confusion. Looking down she sees that the front of her outfit has closed. Her hands tremble a bit as she grasps the two sides of her nightie, lifting them up and away from her body to reveal -- Oh my! The glinting I saw is not from a belly button ring or a waist chain. Nope, this glint comes from a much kinkier source. I fall to my knees so I can get a better look.

The device -- and it is a device, must be five or six inches in length, covering Tara's entire cock in a steely birdcage like enclosure. A metallic ring that lifts and pulls Tara's testicles away from her body connects to the cage with a pin attached to a tiny padlock. Son of a bitch! Tara's in a chastity device; a cock cage. And...I have the key! The design of the cage is stunning, substantial and elegant all at once. It's long enough to let Tara achieve a partial woody, but the downward curve and relatively short length will keep her from getting a full erection. Plus the stainless steel looks fantastic against her Mediterranean coloring.

I've apparently been distracted for a while, because Tara is prattling about above me. 'You don't like it do you? I knew it was too much. Blah. Blah. Blah.' I find her talk distracting. I move to rise, standing up so I can silence my girl with kiss or two. My movements are too quick and I find myself leaping into the air. Shit! WTF!

Tara says, "It's alright, Jennifer. Your body's responding to changes. You'll get the hang of it soon enough. Try making slower, more controlled movements." She makes this nonsense statement calmly, like she's used to me springing three feet into the air from a kneeling position everyday.

I scowl at her before noticing the glitter, ruby red lipstick she has applied to her lips. Tara's bee stung lips are so inviting, so enticing I can't help giving her a kiss. I did want to shut her up, you know. We kiss. Soft, slow, our lips testing and tasting, gliding against our counterpart. When we part, Tara gives a sigh saying, "That was nice." Mmmmmm! So it was.

I ease her back until her shoulder blades touch the wall next to the bathroom door. Twisting first one arm behind her back, then the other, I firmly make Tara grab each opposite elbow in her hands. Next I gather up her long, thick hair, taking the time to indulge in another sniff, before bunching it firmly in my left hand. A gentle pull forces Tara to raise her face to mine. Her eyes as she looks up at me are a pale, pale hazel. I want them to be gold! I kiss her again, easing my tongue into her mouth. She is hesitant at first, but soon Tara's tongue is dueling with mine. The kiss isn't broken until I'm out breath.

My eyes open before Tara's. Her face is still tilted up, angled in my direction. There is a soft, gentle smile on her face, a smile that broadens to become a sharp-toothed grin. She licks her glittering red lips, in anticipation of another kiss or simply to taste our union. Either way, the move is sexy as hell. When she finally opens her eyes, Tara's gaze is bright, shining gold. Go me! "Open your mouth," I say. When her mouth opens, I explore it with my tongue, running the slick, slippery muscle over the sharp teeth, smooth palate and delicious tongue, while Tara moans and groans deep in her throat. Such sexy sounds, but Tara doesn't need to know how much they affect me. "Next week," I growl, "I want you to get a ball gag, a small one, something soft so you don't hurt your pretty teeth. You're making way too much noise."

"Can't help it," Tara says breathlessly. "You're driving me nuts!" Huh, I'm driving her nuts.

"None of your sass, missy!" A swift swat on Tara's bottom let's her know I mean business. She won't be quiet, and to tell the truth I really don't want her to. I just enjoy smacking that ass! I drop down again, this time making a conscious effort to move slowly. The sight of Tara encased inside the metallic prison is every bit as riveting as before. Her little cherry-sized nutsack is so very tight; I can't resist rubbing the pad of my index finger over that tight skin. Oooohhhhh! Tara's balls are hot to the touch and the skin feels downy soft, almost velvety.

"God, Jenn!" Tara's exclamation takes me by surprise.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No," she replies, "but everything down there is super sensitive."

I'm continue rubbing her balls, watching as Tara's cock begins to grow, swiftly filling the open space of the confining cage. Her dick reaches the limits of the enclosure, flesh straining against the stainless steel bars, some skin actually expanding out of the small openings in the bars, still trying to grow. Above me, I hear Tara draw in a sharp breath. "Am I hurting you?" I ask. Tara scrunches up her face, but shakes her head no. Her eyes have grown even brighter. "Use words please. Do you want me to stop?"

Tara grins down at me mischievously, her sinfully long canines looking wicked sharp. "It's uncomfortable, but not painful," she says. "I like what you're doing. You should definitely not stop!"

Given the green light, I take a light grip on Tara's genitals, her straining sausage and tight little balls, lifting them in my palm. Shit! This thing is heavier than I anticipated weighing in at half a pound or more. The end of the chastity device is wet with Tara's precum. I want to taste her so I lick lengthwise down the bars, my tongue tickled and tantalized by the hard edges of the bars, by the only slightly softer flesh between. I reach the tip of the cage and swirl my tongue. I taste the salted caramel of Tara's discharge along with the almost electric tang of the metal. I give an involuntary growl. Yummy!

"Mmmmmmmm. Ssssssssss. Oooohhhhhhh. Ssssshhhhiiiiittttttt!" Hmmmm. Someone seems to be enjoying herself.

Tara has her shoulders pressed firmly against the wall, while thrusting her hips toward the hot cavern of my mouth, hoping I will take her dick inside. I'm happy to disappoint! I take a last, feather soft lick with my wet tongue, then stand up, dragging Tara away from the wall. Grabbing the nearest pillow off the bed, I place it on the floor directly in front of the bathroom door. "Kneel," I tell Tara. When she is in place, knees resting on the pillow, legs spread wide, I have Tara release her hold on her elbows instead having her grab her ankles. Now Tara is kneeling, arms reaching behind her to grasp her ankles, chest up and out so her magnificent boobs with achingly hard nipples are on display, and her crotch open, ready, her stick still straining away in its prison pointed directly at me. Nice! My desire is to play some more, but I have surprises of my own!

I say to Tara, "Close your eyes." She does. "I want you to keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them. Can you do that on your own or do you need a blindfold?" The look she gives me is perfectly priceless; I need to take a picture. Tara's face is a flawless mixture of amusement, yearning and frustration, so unbelievably adorable my belly tightens with sudden emotion. God, I love this girl! The distinctive sound of my phone taking a picture has her opening her mouth in protest, though to her credit her eyes remain closed.

"OMG, Jenn! Did you just take my picture?"

"I did, cutie. You look so sexy in your pretty lingerie and little chastity cage. I had to get a picture so I can remember it."

"But..."

"What! You think I'm going to post your picture all over the internet?"

"No." Tara shakes her head, saying "I know you'd never do anything to hurt me its...just embarrassing."

In an instant I'm back in front of Tara, sitting on my knees with my forehead pressed to hers. Right now I'd do anything to please Tara. Anything to pleasure her. This beautiful woman who is all mine.

Tara exhales, her warm, sweet breath gliding across my cheeks, tickling the hair around my ears before passing away. Her lips, so close they are almost touching mine, move without making a sound, as if Tara is uncertain of her next words. The words, when they finally come send a shock through my being. "Baby, if you don't get in the shower soon we're going to have sex right here on the carpet. Then I'll never get my surprise."

Damn it! "Get out of my head," I say. "Do you already know what the surprise is?"

"Can't get out of your head," Tara mumbles, her lips pressed lightly against mine. "You're too dominant; equilibrium is making my gifts stronger."

"Do you know what the surprise is? Have I ruined it?"

"Not yet, but if you stay I will know. Your emotions are sooooo strong. God, it's like having your emotions laid right on top of mine. In a minute I'm going to lose control and just have my way with you!"

I lay my hands on Tara's shoulders then slide them down her arms, forcing me to lean in closer, until my upper body is pressed upon hers. My kiss on her cheek is chaste, but filled with all my love. "I'm going," I say. I work hard to keep my mind blank. "Will you be okay in this position for a little while?"

"I'll be fine. Don't take too long or I might come in there after you."

The shower is quick, but the set-up for my surprises takes a little longer, in part because I'm doing my best to keep my emotions under control, but also because the mechanics of setting up are unfamiliar. In any case, I'm certainly not hating arranging, rearranging and once more for luck, arranging the surprise until it feels perfect. By the time I open the bathroom door I'm aroused and ready for some action.

Tara is still sitting on the floor, in the exact position in which I left her, eyes closed. I make my way to her, placing my hand on her shoulder. I can feel her curiosity so I'm hopeful she's still in the dark about her surprise. "Give me your hand," I say. Taking her hand, I lead Tara up and onto the bed, arranging her so she is back in the same position she was in on the floor, arms back, holding her ankles and presenting her goodies. I kneel in front of her, placing my hands on the smooth, warm skin of her shoulders. I rub from the base of her neck to where her shoulders meet Tara's arms. When she relaxes into the massage, I move my hands down to the upper slopes of her breasts. Tara's breasts seem absolutely enormous on her petite frame, the c-cup tits sitting high on her narrow chest. Those breast are exceptionally hot in my hands and I'm not just talking about their temperature. I cup those lovely boobies, feeling their weight, watching as my gentle manipulations make her areolas crinkle and her nipples pucker. I adore the dusky-rose of Tara's nipples.

I flick the thick nubbins with my thumbs. Adding my forefingers to the mix, I lightly twist and pull on Tara's nipples until they are as long and thick as I can make them. Then I flick those thick, sensitive nubs with the tip of my tongue. Mmmmmm! So yummy. Tara arches her back, thrusting her chest and more importantly those sensitive nipples into the hot, wet cavern of my mouth. I'm willing to indulge her for a few minutes, licking, sucking and tweaking her nipples, squeezing and caressing her big, soft tits, even a few soft bites here and there. Tara's breathing has picked up, her breaths come in quick, shallow pants as she becomes more aroused. When I glance down I see her semi-erection is once again straining at the confines of the cage.

Reluctantly, I move away from those magnificent breasts, planting whisper-soft kisses along the skin of Tara's belly as I make my way to the trapped "monster". The tightness of her ball sack still amazes me and I find myself reaching out to touch the cherry-sized nuts within. Wow! If I thought her breasts were hot, they are nothing compared to the heat coming off Tara's balls. They are so hot they feel almost feverish. The pads of my fingers roam over the heated skin, touching, caressing, fondling, even separating her gonads. Before I consciously consider what I'm doing, I've leaned forward so I can lick the stretched tight skin of Tara's sack. The smell and taste drive me nuts! One by one, I suck Tara's balls into my mouth. I'm gentle, caressing her nuts in my warm mouth, while my tongue dances across the oh so sensitive flesh.

"Damn that feels good! You're making my pussy leak all over the sheets, Jennifer."

I don't want her dick to feel neglected so I let Tara's balls slide out of my mouth and turn my attention to her steel sheathed shaft. I lick all around from the base to the tip, making sure my saliva coats every confined inch of her prick. Sluuurppp! I pop her into my mouth, taking the caged shaft all the way to the base, letting my tongue continue its stroll around the steel and any exposed skin.

Tara says, "Your mouth feels so freaking warm. It's like you're giving my dick a hot bath." I moan around the invading penis. Tara shudders!

At the tip, my tongue finds a small circular opening, giving me a devilish idea. It takes an effort of will to release Tara's cock; I'm loving the way the cage feels and tastes in my mouth. I rise up, pressing my mouth to Tara's, letting her taste herself. The kiss heats up, but I pull back needing to calm us both down. This close, the smell of my arousal mixes with Tara's own wonderful smell, making me feel horny, possessive, loving, and raunchy.

"You're getting a little too excited," I whisper huskily into her ear.

"Yeah, I am!"

"You need to get softer; there's something I want to try."

"That's going to be hard. You're making me nuts!"

I chuckle. "You're hilarious. 'That's going to be hard.' You're precious." I give Tara a tight hug.

"If you want me to get soft, that's not helping."

It takes a few minutes of quiet talking and no touching, but eventually Tara's semi-erection wilts leaving me free to play again. Moistening the tip of my left pinkie, I insert the slick tip into the opening in the cage, while I use my fingertips to tease and fondle the tight balls in front of the metallic ring. As expected, it doesn't take Tara long to begin to grow again, only this time, her increasing length pushes her piss slit directly onto the wet tip of my finger. I'm sounding my girlfriend! Tara's eyes flutter behind the closed lids and her mouth forms a perfect "O", raspy, pink tongue inside darting spastically. Her legs stutter, trying to knee-walk closer, trying to slide more of my finger into her urethra.

"Fffffffuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk! Soooooooo stinkin' nasty!" Tara's words are slurred by her seeming inability to close her mouth. Her hips punch the air, back and forth, back and forth, fucking onto my finger.

I pull my hands away. "Unh, unh, unh! No playing unless you're still."

"Okay! Please do it again! Sound me, baby!"

I do. Over and over again. I make her wait until she is soft, then tease her into sounding her cock on my finger, tease her until she can't stay still, then take my pleasuring fingers away. I don't stop until her breathing is ragged, her body trembling with need and covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. I leave her kneeling, frustrated in mind and body, as I move to the far end of the bed. It's time she received her first surprise!

"So Tara," I say, "you seem to be enjoying yourself."

"Oh, yes! Yes. Yes. Yes."

"That's good. I want you to enjoy yourself, but that doesn't mean you need to be selfish."

"What...? Selfish... I don't understand."

"Here I am, servicing your dick, playing with your balls and what have you done for me? You haven't given my cock any love at all." Tara's eyes pop open and I can't help laughing at her shocked expression. It's hard to tell where she is looking because the entire eye socket is gleaming gold, but I'm guessing her first glance is at my face, her second locks in on the silicon dong easing out of my pouting pussy lips. Tara falls to her hands and begins to crawl toward me, the grin on her face crazy: crazy feral, crazy fierce, crazy sexy. I wonder how I ever mistook her for human, then I realize this is something only I see, something she shares only with me. I'm overwhelmed with her trust. I love you!
She stops in front of me, her scalding hands resting on my hips. Tara stares into my eyes, the bright golden gleam of her eyes shimmering like ripples in a pond. With a controlled slowness she lowers herself until she is eye level with the shiny, purple cock. She purses her red lips and plants a gentle kiss on the tip. Tara tilts her head so her blazing eyes are pointed at me, then proceeds to make love to the fake dick. Her tongue licks all around the head, leaving a sheen of saliva that makes the purple coloring shine and gleam. Those licks proceed down the shaft, making contact with every inch of exposed silicon. Her smile is wide and I can feel her genuine pleasure as she tongues my cock. Now I see why guys are so turned on by receiving blowjobs, even though I can't feel the same sensations. And then I can! Can feel a steady rhythmic push/pull as Tara takes the just the head of the purple python into her mouth, cradling the tip on her tongue as she applies velvety pressure with her lips. The movement is causing the insert in my pussy to rock against my vaginal walls. OMG!

I'm taken deeper into Tara's mouth, well the rubber dong is, deeper with each bob of her head. Saliva generously coats the first half, making it easier to take more and more of my length. By the time Tara reaches the base of my shaft, saliva drips from her chin onto the big, fake, round balls. Head tilted to the side, Tara keeps one eye trained on me as she fully engulfs the head and shaft, nose pressed tight to my curly pubes when her long, raspy tongue slips out to tickle the squishy, purple nutsack. Tara, hums and moans, hacks, and gags on my knob all while keeping me at a fever pitch with the movement of the pussy insert. I moan! Tara picks up the pace of her bobbing head, alternating between deep throating me and just sucking on the first three or four inches of the shaft. Watching her give head, feeling how it turns Tara on is revving me up, driving me toward an orgasm. I run my fingers through her hair, along her cheeks as my fake prick presses against them, even cup her throat as the head slides deep into her esophagus.

I can't take anymore! I pull Tara off my sausage, up and to my mouth where I kiss her deeply. When our kiss is finished, my twat is feeling warm and slippery, pliable and comfortably slick; I wonder if I'll be able to hold the insert in as I fuck my sexy girlfriend. I lay Tara back against the bed, opening her legs wide while I position the head of our purple lover at her moist entrance. Her skin is absolutely smooth, blemish free, her natural olive-toned skin taking on a rosy hue around her pubic mound and darkening to a wet, bright coral where Tara's lips open to reveal her already creamy hole. I slide inside her with a sigh, entering her fully until the fake balls tap satisfyingly against her asshole.

Tara giggles, pulling me into an even tighter embrace by wrapping her strong legs around my hips. "God! I can't believe I have you inside me," she squeals.

"You like that, baby?"

"I fucking love it," Tara growls. "C'mon, fuck me, Jennifer. Show me how much I mean to you!"

With an invitation like that what else can I do? I start slowly, using smooth, short strokes, making sure the pussy is good and wet for some hard fucking. Slowly I increase my tempo, going deeper, going faster and harder until I bottoming out in Tara's sweet snatch. Her pussy is tight, seeming to grasp and suck at the fake cock, which in turn pulls and pushes at the insert in my own hot taco. Squelching, slurping sounds are coming from our juicy pussies and for the life of me I can't tell who's more turned on, me or Tara.

I roll her over on her side, raising her right leg so it is resting on my shoulder, leaving my hands free access to her tits, her phat ass, juicy pussy and steel-encased cock. I make Tara into a fuck smorgasbord and I'm eating until I'm full. I position myself so I'm squeezing and fondling her massive breasts, watching them shake as I fuck in and out of Tara's honey pot. Grabbing her ass, I fondle her cheeks, kneading and separating the big, round globes. Tara's bouncing captive cock draws my attention and I can't help reaching out to fondle, tease and cup her tight little ball sack which has now taken on a deep magenta color. Continuing to massage her balls with my fingers, I let my thumb trail down to Tara's engorged clit. I give it a gentle flick.

"Unh, unh, fuck. Fuck me Jennifer! Fuck my little pussy; make it cum. Fuck me hard and fast, mate."

Unghhh! She said it again, 'mate'. Everything goes blank in my mind except for the need to cum. I fuck Tara with short, fast thrusts, grinding my own clit against the back of the thumb circling hers. Fingers dancing, I jostle her nuts, building up a big juicy load for later. Beneath me Tara has started to mumble, a sure sign she is getting ready to cum.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! Riding my mates cock! Gonna cum all over my mates cock! Sssssshhhhhiiiiiiiittttt! I'm cumming! I'm cumming, Jenn!"

Tara wraps the leg not on my shoulder around my hips, locking me against her, her hips shaking and writhing on my purple cock. Tara's caged cock continues to bounce and flop around, and to my surprise begins spraying a huge load. God! It's going everywhere. Partially blocked by the contraption she's wearing, her load is shooting out the hole in front, out the sides and dribbling off the end. It just keeps coming out, spurting across Tara's hip, down her leg, spraying against my legs and hip. Oy! Tara must cum for twenty or thirty seconds, with a load that is impressive even for her. I keep playing with her clit, in turn playing with my own that is mashed against that thumb as well. A final diddle and I'm cumming too, hips shaking and shuddering, still driving the cock into Tara, still making the insert inside me move. I ride my orgasm, making it last, reveling the sensations of cumming in unison with my girlfriend.

Finally Tara reaches out to still my hand, a hand that has continued to manipulate both our clits. "Oh, baby you gotta stop. I'm sooooo sensitive right now." She pulls me down so that I'm lying on top of her. "Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh." Tara's long sigh vibrates against my chest making my skin feel tingly. This is family!

"Was that good, baby? Did you like your surprise as much as I did?"

Tara replies, "That was so freakin' amazing! I've never cum like that before. Never! I didn't think I could cum from my pussy and cock at the same time. You rock, slut!"

I stare into her eyes, watching the gold recede like water flowing down a drain, until only the regular hazel of Tara's eyes is present. The look she gives me is soft and dreamy; beneath me her body goes limp. Tara closes her eyes.

"Tired, cutie?" I ask.

"Mmmm, hmmm. Someone just fucked the hell out of me. Made me cum like I was some kind of sex toy."

I trace a finger over Tara's collarbone and down the swell of her breast, where I cup it in a supple grip. My eyes stay on Tara's face as I dip my head, letting my tongue leave a feathery caress across her areola. "So then you're too tired for the rest of your surprise?" I ask again. Blink! Tara's eyes open so fast there is an almost audible quality to the movement. Metallic gold explodes, erasing pupil, iris and sclera. There's my girl! "That's ok." I say, feigning like I don't notice the golden eyes or smell her increasing arousal. "It'll keep for another time."

Fast as a leaf in a storm swollen river, I'm upended and rolled onto my back. She straddles my supine body. Tara has pinned my arms next to my body with her knees, leaving me trapped, defenseless. Her hands rest quiescent on my shoulders. "What's my surprise?" she growls menacingly.

I shrug as best as I can, immobilized as I am. "It's nothing. Go to sleep; I'll pull it out another time."

"You'll give me my surprise now or so help me I'll tickle you until you pee the bed."

"You'll have to kiss me first." Tara gives me the crazy grin as she leans in to kiss me, the one that makes me want to pull my knees to my chest so I can be mounted like a bitch in heat. The kiss is like an inferno, sensations racing from my mouth to my nipples, from nipples to juicy cunt, like wildfire. It leaves me feeling shaky and needy. My voice quavers as I say, "You'll have to let me up if you want your surprise." I'm released with a warning tickle. "Close your eyes one more time," I ask.

When Tara's eyes are closed I move to the far end of the king size bed, placing my upper body against the mattress with my face pointed toward the foot board. I arch my back so that everything is on display: wet creamy pussy, little bubble butt cheeks and nestled in my crinkly, tight, pink rosebud a purple jewel butt plug. "You can open your eyes," I call out.

"OH! Oh, yes! Sooooo sexy." Tara rushes over, rubbing the globes of my ass with her cheeks, her forehead, the silky tresses of her long hair, all while moaning and sighing like she's found water in the desert. Strong arms grasp me around the hips, pulling my ass in tight to her burrowing face. It's not long before I start to feel soft nips from sharp teeth and soothing caresses from a raspy tongue all around my buttocks. The feeling is absolutely delicious! One of my thumbs rests upon my lips and as Tara continues her oral assault on my flank, I take it into my mouth, licking, sucking and mouthing it like it is a miniature cock.

Tara begins to lick me, from the base of my hairy pubes, across the groove of my sticky, creamy entrance, up and over my taint, until finally she reaches the jeweled butt plug. Her tongue marches all around the sparkly devil, tasting me, teasing me, driving me nuts. I wiggle my round bottom in appreciation. Tara must use a finger on me, because I start to feel a tender pressing that circles the edge of the jeweled handle, which of course causes some subtle movements to the plug in my anus. It's an odd, but entirely pleasant sensation. This goes on for a while, the licking and gentle movement of the plug inside me. Arousal peaking, I press back into Tara more firmly, using my body to ask for more.

She responds by focusing her tongue on my engorged nubbin, Tara's raspy tongue circling my clit with ever increasing speed. I feel Tara grasp the purple handle and begin to slowly pull the plug from my ass. She only pulls until the wide end of the plug begins to crest the ring of my sphincter, then she lets go, letting my body pull the plug back into my hole. Tara does it again. And again. And again, letting my body suck and pull on the fat plug. My hips begin to hunch and wiggle with each slow extraction, grind and churn with each increasingly easy entrance back inside. "C'mon, Tara! Fuck me already!" She doesn't. Tara just keeps licking on my pussy and teasing my tightest hole. "Please baby," I whine, "pick a hole and go for it." I know she's ready because I can feel Tara's hot fuck stick resting on my calf, her balls rhythmically brushing against my foot's heel.

Finally she relents, entering my pussy with her scalding hot, thick as my wrist sausage. I sigh against my forearms, realizing they are wet from the drool coming out of my mouth. In and out, Tara saws through my slippery twat, her hard cock pressing on the plug in the next passage, jostling it and making me feel so very, very full. My legs spread wider, back arching like I'm a performer in Cirque du Soleil, giving Tara an angle to fuck me deeply as possible. I push back on her in strokes, slide forward on the out, so that we're humping like a mad steam engine piston. Tara uses her artist's hands to spread my cheeks wide; one or more fingers are spinning and tugging at the deep purple plug stuffed tightly in my ass. Both my pussy and ass are slick and yielding, slippery with my natural juices or lube and it's not long before a slurping, squelching sound can be heard coming from both my wide open holes. The sound is raw and nasty. The smell more so, the air redolent with scent of aroused cunt and ass.

"Jennifer, baby, I'm not gonna be able to last long! God! I can't believe you're wearing a butt plug and letting me play with it while I'm fucking you from behind."

Tara's words push me closer to my own date with heaven. I can feel the tingle deep in my core signaling my own orgasm is fast approaching. My hand moves, pulling the saliva slick thumb out of my mouth, trailing south where it takes up residence on my engorged clit. Circling. Rubbing. Lightly pinching and smacking. My hand is a blur, moving as fast as my hips, as fast as Tara balls smacking away, as fast as her thrusting cock! "Do it," I croon. "Fuck my wet, steamy pussy! Drop a big load in my cunt while you fuck my butt with that wide ass plug!"

"Fuck, Jenn! I'm gonna cum! Shit, I'm gonna cum so hard!"

Tara pulls out. And I mean pulls out everywhere, her cock out of my spasming cunt, the plug out of my winking asshole, leaving both my holes empty and gaping. I'm still frigging my clit like there's no tomorrow, frustrated that Tara's taken away my toys when the bed heaves with Tara's sudden movement. Next thing I know, there's a sizzling dick head poking at my recently vacated anus. It slides in and begins spitting an enormous load deep into core. The fullness, the nastiness of Tara cumming up my ass drives me over the edge. My hips shudder and convulse. My pussy shivers and quivers and my poor butthole, well that is spasming too, opening and closing at will on the tapered head of Tara's cock, milking it for all its worth. "Ohhhhh fffffuuuucccckkkk!" I groan. I am spent. My body falls flat to the mattress, pulling off Tara's fuck stick with a wet schluuuup. I giggle because what else can you do when your asshole sounds like its burping out your lover.

Before I can get comfortable, Tara grabs me and pulls me so that I'm lying on top of her. I'll stay for a moment; I know Tara is big into cuddling after sex. But the differences in our height means that even with my legs splayed wide my inner thighs are touching Tara's knees, my belly is pressing on her thin hips and my head is resting on her chest. That last bit is kind of nice. Her breasts are velvety soft and very hot resting against both sides of my neck. I look up to find Tara looking down at me, her eyes back to hazel, grin warm and tender.

I meet her gaze for a while, longing to tell her how much I love her, how much I need her in my life. I love you. Three small words; easy enough to say. But I can't say them. If I do, I'll tell her everything. Tell her that I'm dying to move in with her. Tell her that I can't wait to get married. Maybe start a family. Like word vomit, the confessions of my hopes and dreams would pour out of me like water from a hose on a hot summer day. Arrrgghhhh! I'm such a coward. Big, tough, worldly girl afraid to tell her girlfriend how she feels. My head is churning with my circling thoughts and my stomach knots with frustration. I can't stay here! I start move because I can't lay here, can't lay on Tara with my mind going a mile a minute.

Strong arms lock me in, holding me down and preventing me from moving. "You worry too much," Tara says. Son of a bitch! I forgot that Tara can pick up on my strong emotions, can know what I'm thinking if I'm thinking about it hard enough. Shit! Tara knows. I struggle, needing to get away, needing space. God, Tara knows. I panic, thrashing against the arms that hold me as tight as steel cables. Tara knows how I feel, knows what I hope for, what I dream for. Tara knows. But I can't get away or maybe I could. As tight as her arms are, I feel some give as I wiggle. Pretty sure I could get out if I really wanted to, but in truth where would I go? Being in Tara's arms is already the best place in the world.

Tara knows. The knowledge sinks into my churning thoughts, slowly like a clogged drain. Tara knows! She knows and she's not pushing me away or making me feel crazy. Instead she's holding me tight, holding me through another panic attack. With infinite slowness my body starts to relax, seeming like each individual muscle has to go through its own freak out before it can loosen. Tara knows. My head rest solidly against Tara's chest and I snuggle in getting comfortable. I was wrong! Feels like I could lay here forever. Tara knows!

The arms that had held me so tight, my Tara's arms, loosen. The arm around my waist rests warm and stolid, heavy and reassuring at the small of my back. The arm around my shoulders begins to stroke my hair, from the top of my forehead all the way past my shoulders. Beneath my chest I feel a vibration as Tara makes a sound, a sound that is part growl, part rumble, part purr. It is the most happy, most contented sound I have ever heard. I move my head so that the sound and vibration are against my cheek. GGGGGRRRRRRRUUUUUUUMMMMRRR! GGGGGRRRRRRRUUUUUUUMMMMRRR! GGGGGRRRRRRRUUUUUUUMMMMRRR!

I melt hearing that sound. This is life. This is family. My Tara. Mine! I try to imitate the sound, a growl, a rumble, a purr. My first try is unsuccessful. My second is a little better. By my third attempt I am grumble purring right along with my girlfriend. Tara's hand stills in my hair for just an instant and I feel her chin nuzzle into the top of my head. She opens her mouth and I hear her say, "Best. Mate. Ever."

TO BE CONTINUED...