By Margo Perry  (margo707 AT rogers DOT com)
Copyright 2001 by Margo Perry, all rights reserved.

Joe flew at cruise-speed through a heaven of clouds that brushed his face, caressed his chest and belly, grazed his knees and thighs. He was buoyed by a rapturous happiness that only dreams are made of. And he waved arms that were wings floating sideways, bearing hands that reached, touched, fondled and squeezed incredible breasts of clouds…

Joe groaned his quivering cock across an uncharted and seamless line into tentative consciousness. A hot sticky hairy wetness pressed against his belly, long legs stretched and moved seductively against his own. Pulpy heavy breasts rolled and squashed across his chest…

Ooooh …

A hot wet tongue circled, licked and gently bit his hardening nipple; the pungent smell of urgent, predatory sex assaulted his nostrils and a deep growling breathed through his ears. The image came full-born just under his sleepy lids …  Libbbbbbby…

Fully awake now, Joe resisted the impulse to open his eyes, choosing to float in the exquisite sensory pleasure of Libby’s hands smoothing his hair, teasing his scalp with piano musing fingertips that scratched variations across his scalp. Joe was lost in a series of sequential eroticisms that titillated, ebbed and surged through him. He was being driven to the edge of his feeling banks and then withdrawn; dangled from a cliff and then pulled back.

I wanna’ fall … Please let me fall…

Libby’s hands, legs, tits, belly, lips and teeth all seemed to be moving in concert, covering his body with soft nibbles and sucks, pressures, insinuations. Making him hard, so hard that his balls ached with the drooling need to come.

What day, what time is it? Still Sunday, getting dark … Hold on …

A hot tongue teased the outside of his lips. Joe feared an invasion, yet wanted to be invaded. Wanted to clean the sleep-time from his teeth, wanted her to kiss him now. Her tongue probed then plunged inside, owning, taking away choice, moving wetly against his teeth and gums, swimming inside his pool of a mouth.

Libbbby…

Libby rolled away from Joe. She lay on her back, her mouth hanging open, her legs spread. Her arms loosely circled her head that moved jerkily from side to side. Joe moved quickly to straddle her, looking down at this woman who suddenly demanded all of him. His body-supporting hands were beside her head and her tongue darted against his wrists as his cock found its way. Needing to be sure, she held him against her, rubbing his cum moistened tip against her protruded clit. Her pussy seemed to breathe wet fire as he moved inside her. Slow motion sensations, too beautiful for words. Ancient moanings escaped her lips as her hips rose and fell with him, for him. They fucked. Changed positions. She laughed down at him, breasts swaying just after the provocative shifting of her shoulders. Libby laughed with insane delight as she rode him, rode him.
They fucked until he came, gushing hot flights of thick cum into her with all of his male heart. And still they fucked with his post orgasmic, semi-swollen cock as he, balanced precariously on one hand, lovingly rubbed her clit until she came with all her female heart … weeping gasps.

As they lay wrapped in silence and each other, Joe thought of the women he’d known, fucked, and lay beside after sex and wondered what was different about this moment. Libby hadn’t uttered a word, merely snuggled against him. He loved that but she wasn’t the only one. No, there was something fundamentally different and it came to him slowly. He felt as close or even closer to her in the aftermath as he had during the explosion. Aloneness was missing, the state of aloneness that usually came to separate him from the woman to whom he’d been so frenziedly attached only moments before. Ordinariness was missing and in its place was the sure knowledge that Libby had changed him. Not on the outside where people could see but deep inside where the heart and soul cry out for hearth and home and the unfailing love of another. In the place where the capacity for love is nourished, feted and flamed by the person and spirit of another beloved being. What was different was that Joe loved.

“Libby, what’s had you so freaked out lately?”
“I don’t want to spoil…this,” Libby started.
“You won’t be spoiling anything. I love you, Libby, and I need to know,” Joe said quietly.
Libby raised up on her elbow, her face radiant. Her milk chocolate breasts hanging low, teasing Joe’s eyes with their magnificence, his arm with their touch. Instinctively, Joe reached up to caress them, squeezing, weighing them in his too small hand.
“And I love these,” he whispered reverently.
“That’s for sure,” Libby giggled, “and they love you. We all love you, Joe Browning.”
Joe stilled the unbridled excitement that exploded in his brain singing…She loves me…she loves me…
“Talk to me,” he said with quiet determination.

Libby’s voice washed over him. Her sultry, sometimes sad, sometimes quivering voice spilled out of her in a torrent of words.

After her divorce, in the throes of self-pity and self-doubt, she’d answered an ad for a telephone sex operator. She’d needed to hide and yet to connect with someone … herself and another. She’d lasted only two weeks but in that short time had moved every client to her regulars-list, extended her hours from four to eight and targeted a John, and that’s what he called himself, who was the stereotypical obsessive stalker. After she’d quit the business, he’d managed to discover her home phone number. He ignored her pleas to be left alone and continued to call after she’d changed her number and even after she’d resorted to an unlisted number. His calls had become increasingly bizarre. They were fated to be together forever. He was preparing for their life and they’d be together soon …

Eventually, Libby fell silent and Joe found himself overwhelmed by a sense of caring that was ferocious in its intensity and depth; a sense that started in his brain and spread throughout his body, settling in his groin. And he felt a distant but persistent stirring as he pulled Libby close to him.
“Have you heard of Richard Chase?”

“Isn’t he that ex CIA guy who cracked that debutante’s murder case before the police could even get started. It was all over the papers.”

“Yeah, Private Dick they call him,” Joe said. “Well, he’s my godfather. My dad was a police chief and he and Uncle Dick go way back, to high school. They’ve been best friends forever. I want to call him. This John guy sounds like a real problem.”

“Okay.”
Joe kissed Libby’s cheek and moved away from her child’s voice that was so full of weary relief that he wanted to cry.

“I’ll try him at home.”

“Uncle Dick, it’s Joe. I’ve got something I need to run by you. I’m not at home so I’ll try your office and if we don’t connect I’ll get back to you later. Bye.”

“Hey, Uncle Dick, it’s Joe. So you’re working on Sunday … Where are you going? … Jamaica, Mobay. Nice. Well, I won’t bother you then. … It’s about a friend of mine. She’s being stalked …

“Libby, have you ever taped this guy?” Joe asked.
“Actually, I have a couple of tapes,” Libby answered.

“She has a couple of tapes … We’re down at the Waterfront, 25 The Pier … Right now?”

“Libby, he’s about to leave the office and he’s going away tomorrow but he’ll drop by and see us right now. Okay?”
Libby nodded.

“Uncle Dick, we’ll be waiting … Penthouse. Okay, thanks a lot.”

“I’m so ashamed,” Libby said, as Joe gently soaped her waving breasts with his bare hands.
“No need to be,” Joe said. “You made a mistake but that creep has no right … ”
He kissed her taut belly and the inside of her thighs.
“Oh Joe,” Libby groaned as he licked her hardening clit, sucked her throbbing pussy.
“Oh Libby,” Joe said, his legs trembling, when she bathed his cock in her warm wet mouth.

They were sitting on the couch, hand in hand, when Private Dick arrived.
“I’m really nervous,” Libby said as they moved to the door.
“We’ll get through this together,” Joe said.