Gayle: A Love Story
by Marknew742@aol.com
Two can become One and One can become Two, or More


It was going to be a great summer.  I knew it.  My buddies and
I had gone to Camp Hiawatha for years now, and finally we were
in charge, the junior counselors.  We didn't get the money the
real counselors got, and we weren't really in charge, but we
could still boss around most of the other campers there, and
when it got down to it, we could spend the summer doing
whatever we wanted.  And best of all, we'd get the pick of the
lot at the summer socials.  I knew this would be the summer I
got laid.

It didn't take long for me to meet the girl.  The first social
was the second weekend after we'd arrived, with Camp
Pocahontas.  I saw Gayle helping organize the girl campers,
giving them pep talks, probably warning them about going too
far with us.  She seemed a little more mature than the other
girls, although at about 5'3" she was no taller, and it turned
out she was fifteen, not quite a junior counselor, but not a
regular camper.  She was a daughter of a friend of the camp's
owner, and she was staying there and helping out for the
summer, while her parents were going through a divorce.  After
I'd pushed my boys in the direction of the girls, showing them
who was in charge, I wandered over to talk to her.  Around me
she was a lot shyer.

"Hi.  I'm Marty.  What's your name?"

"Gayle."

"So, is this your first summer at Pocahontas?"

"Uh-huh. I'm not much for camping, but it's good for me.  The
girls are nice.  How about you?"

"I've come here for seven years.  I'm a JC, and this is
probably my last summer.  I'll get a real job next year."

She nodded but didn't say anything.

"You want to take a walk?  The lake's really nice at night."

"Shouldn't we watch the kids?  I'm a little nervous about
leaving them."

I chuckled.  "You'll probably see more of them outside.  This
place will be empty in half an hour, except for the ones who
don't know what to do.  And you don't have to worry about them
getting into trouble."

She blushed.  "Oh.  Yeah, I guess you're right.  I haven't
been to one of these before.  Well, okay then."

I put my arm on her back and led her outside.  She felt nice,
soft, but solid and she followed my lead easily.  I liked the
way she moved.

"Where do you live?"

"Northampton.  At least, I think so.  It depends."  I looked
at her quizzically.  "My parents are getting divorced.  I
don't really know where I'm going to end up. It's kind of
weird."

I nodded sympathetically and put my arm around her shoulder.
She moved a little, like she was wondering whether to push it
off, then decided not to.  "A friend of mine went through
that.  His dad moved to New York and he went with him.  At
least until his dad started living with an eighteen year old
and started acting like a kid.  My friend, Bernie, started
feeling like he was in the way and he moved back home with his
mom.  To Amaghansett.  That's where I live.  It's on Long
Island."

"I think I've heard of it.  Near the beach?"  I nodded.  "Kind
of fancy."

"Yeah, parts of it.  Not where we live.  But it's good to be
near the beach and all.  You can ride there at night. But I
haven't been home for the summer since I was 8, so I miss most
of the summer."  She nodded and we walked for a minute without
saying anything.

"It looks so peaceful here.  I wish life could be like this."

I saw an opening.  "Well, you're here, aren't you?  I mean,
you may as well enjoy it."

I saw her smile a little and she brushed away a tear.  "I'm
sorry.  I'm probably not much fun.  I just keep thinking about
home."

"Hey, I bet your parents didn't send you here to worry about
them.  It'll work out.  I mean, look at Bernie.  He didn't
want to move, but now he's doing great."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he lives with his Mom and he sees his Dad on vacations.
I mean, the fact is, as you get older your parents are mostly
in the way anyway.  Sometimes I'm jealous of the guy; his Mom
got a lot looser with his curfew since she started dating.
Not that I'd want my folks to get divorced or anything."

"Yeah, I know what you mean.  I used to fight with my folks a
lot about getting permission to do things.  Once they started
fighting with each other, they started letting me do pretty
much what I wanted."

"See?"

"That's fun, but sometimes I wish they'd be stricter again."

"You're kidding."

She smiled.  "It's hard to explain.  I guess it must sound
stupid.  I guess you never get everything that you want."

We had arrived at the lake and I steered her to a fairly
private spot I knew about, with a good rock for sitting.  We
looked up at the moon.

"Can't beat the view, huh?"

"It's nice down here.  Except for the bugs."

I smiled and pulled out my little can of bug repellant.  "It
doesn't smell great, but it works."  I held it up and sprayed
her, and she obediently closed her eyes.  I did like the way
she followed my lead.  It was just a matter of time.

"Thanks.  That's better."

"The stuff really works.  So, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No.  Do you?  I mean, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Not now."  Actually, I'd never had a girlfriend, exactly,
just some clumsy groping last summer.

"You're very pretty, you know?"

"You think so?  No.  I mean, thanks, but I don't know.  I look
at models and I think, they're really pretty.  I try to diet
more, but it's hard and with this stuff going on.  I guess I'm
just big-boned."

I looked her over again.  There was really nothing wrong with
her.  She wasn't an Elle McPherson, for sure, but she had a
certain healthy glow to her that I liked -- although it might
have just been the bug spray.  Her tits weren't large, but
they had a nice shape and I liked the way her ass moved.  I'd
noticed that right away.  She smelled good too.  At least, she
did before the bug spray.

"I like the way you look.  That's why I went up to talk to
you."

She smiled and looked down for a second or two.  "I like the
way you look too."  I pulled her closer to me and could feel a
half-second of indecision, and then she turned to me and put
her lips on mine.  I was there!  I held her, side to side,
kissing for a couple of minutes, and then pushed her gently
down onto the flat surface of the rock.  I'd never quite done
it this way with a girl, holding her, instead of copping a
quick feel.  Her body felt incredible, the soft round breasts,
the special scents, the steady breathing.  I slowly moved my
hand down the side of her body, feeling the curve of her waist
and her hip, touching the side of her ass lightly.  She was
into it too.  I could feel her pushing against me and I turned
my body so that I could feel the pressure against my dick,
which had a rock-solid hard-on.  She moaned a little and I
took that as a signal and moved my hand over to her breast to
touch it.  Suddenly she stiffened and pulled away a little.
Damn!

"Please, Marty.  Not yet.  I --

I made a quick calculation.  "Come on Gayle.  There's no harm
in it.  I mean we're still dressed.  They look so beautiful."

"You think so?  I always thought they were too big."

I couldn't believe I was talking to her about her breasts.
How could her breasts be too big?  I hadn't thought they were
big at all.

"No.  You're kidding, right?"

She looked up at me.  "You think that's crazy, right?  Boys
have no idea what a girl has to go through.  Finding the right
bra, looking at your profile, seeing how they stretch out your
blouse and all that.  I don't know, sometimes I feel so
awkward, but boys always stare at them, so I guess they look
okay."

I had an idea.  "Show me and I'll tell you what I think."

"No way!"  She slapped me, lightly, but she smiled when she
did it.  "You're very cute, you know."

"Cute?"  What did that mean?

"I mean, I like you."

"Well, I like you too.  I think you have a real nice body
too."

"Oh, is that all you're interested in?"

"No -- it's like -- you were talking about it too."

"I'm just teasing you."  She looked down at my hands and took
one of them in hers.  "I like your hands.  They're big, but
they feel like gentle hands.  Are they?"  I didn't know what
she was getting at, but I nodded, and then she played with my
fingers a little and slowly lifted my hand to her breast.  I
couldn't believe it, and for fear of blowing it I just kept my
hand still for a moment right where she'd left it, feeling the
softness of her breast through her bra and then as I realized
she was really going to let me touch her, I began slowly
massaging it.

"That's nice," she said softly.  "Just be gentle.  They're
very sensitive."  I kept rotating my hand around, then stroked
it, feeling how it tapered to a point, and wondering what her
nipple was like, how large was it, what color?  I could hear
her breathing a little faster and sigh, so I guessed she liked
what I was doing, and I leaned over to kiss her, then suddenly
she took my hand off.  I looked at her in surprise.  "No, no,
don't worry.  You just pushed your hand on me too hard and it
hurt, but it felt really good before.  Would you kiss me some
more, please?"

How could I say no?

We must have sat on that rock, reclined on the rock, rolled on
the rock, I don't know, for an hour and a half, until I was
startled by a flashlight in my eyes.  It was the Camp
Director, checking on the campers and pushing them back to the
social hall.  "Walters!  You should be -- oh never mind.
You're a JC this year.  Just don't do -- is that you Gayle?"

"Hi Mr. Rollins."

"Well I'm glad to see --" he stopped himself and cleared his
throat.  "Well, uh, Marty's been with us many years.  He's a
fine lad, uh, and . . . your parents --- are things still, uh
--

"Yeah, Mr. Rollins.  They're getting divorced, I think."

My director nodded sagely; at least, that's what I thought he
was trying to do, although it was dark and I felt so
embarrassed he'd caught us that I wasn't quite sure.  He
didn't seem angry though.

"Well, I, uh, I'm glad you're fitting in here, Gayle.  Marty's
a fine lad, as I said.  Now go on, you two.  Back to the hall,
on the double!"

We walked back a little sheepishly for getting caught, but
holding hands felt good enough that I didn't mind a bit.  I
couldn't believe it, but even holding her hand was enough to
give me a boner.  She giggled.

"Um, are you walking funny ....because --
"Yeah."

She giggled again.  "That's cute!"  She didn't say anything
else.


2

Camp Pocahontas was the perfect place to have a girlfriend.
It was about a half hour walk there, and as JC I got a day off
every week, and town privileges one other night.  Since Gayle
wasn't really working it was a snap to coordinate our
schedules and before I knew it I had two dates a week with
her.  The days were fun.  We'd go bicycling, eat ice cream, go
to a local carnival -- whatever there was to do.  And at
night, I could always count on getting to know her body
better.  She was really into it too, which surprised me, but
she was pushing me almost as fast as I was pushing her.  After
I asked one of the real counselors a few questions, I went to
the local drugstore and picked up a pack of condoms, so I'd be
prepared, and sure enough, the next date, she seemed ready.

It was a cool New England summer night.  We'd gone to a little
place we'd discovered on the grounds of her camp that was
really secluded and not too buggy.  She brought a blanket, and
I brought a radio, some cokes, the condom and another little
surprise, which I hid behind a tree.  I put on some music to
get us in the mood and we held each other.  Then, just as
happened the last couple of times, she let me unbutton her
shirt and I put my hand inside it and felt her up through her
bra.  But I was after more this time.  I started trying to pry
her breast out of the bra, but she shook her head, and we
tussled a little about whether I could take off her bra.

"Marty, I just feel funny about it.  I mean, what if someone
comes here?  I'd be all undressed, right out in the open."

"But Gayle no one's ever come by before.  No one ever comes up
here at night except us."

She pouted.  She did seem pretty torn herself, like she wanted
to go further too.  "I wish we had someplace more private!"

It seemed to be the moment for my surprise.  "Well, I have a
little idea that might help.  Wait here."   I got up, carried
over my sleeping back and unrolled it with flourish on top of
the blanket.  "What do you think?"

She smiled.  "Well, it's not the Ritz, but it looks cozy."

I started unzipping it.  "You first."  She nodded and took off
her shoes, then climbed inside.  I followed carefully.  It was
made for two, but it still was a little tight, and I didn't
care.  The bag pushed us closer together, and no matter which
way either of us moved, we moved into each other.  Her warmth
felt good, and it didn't take much now to get her to take off
her shirt, and her bra.  I couldn't see much in the dark
night, but I could feel plenty, plenty more than I had
expected.  Even though they weren't like the ones I saw in
Playboy, it was still like her breasts just burst out of her
bra, and my hands quickly got busy playing with them.

"That feels really nice, Marty.  You like them, don't you?"

"Uh huh.  They're really wonderful."

"You're sure they're not too big?"

"Yes, I'm sure.  They're great!  Um, Gayle, would you mind if
I put my mouth on them, you know if I, uh, sucked on them?"

She laughed a little, and I wondered if she thought I had some
kind of baby complex, but then she said softly.  "You can do
anything you want with them, as long as you're gentle, ok?"  I
nodded, and slowly put my head inside the sleeping back and
felt her bosom with my mouth, then gently put my mouth over
her nipple and felt it with my tongue.  I could feel her kind
of shiver and then she took my head with her hand and pushed
me closer into her breast.  I started feeling around her other
nipple with my hand, and I was so deep into breasts that I
thought I'd been transported into a kind of dream universe.

Meanwhile, Gayle was moving around too, and I started smelling
a new odor within the sleeping bag.

"Um, Marty.  Marty.  I think you better, um stop.  I'm
getting, you know, really turned on, and I'm not sure we
should, you know, keep doing this, although I really want to.
You know?"

"Oh, Gayle.  I don't want to stop."

"Oh Marty, me neither.  But, you know, what if something
happened?"

"Well, what if I had some, you know, protection?"

"You brought a condom?"

"Uh huh!"

"You planned this whole thing!"  She pulled my head up to
hers.  Was she angry?  No!  She was smiling and kissed me.
"You're really something.  Get a girl all hot and horny.  Do
you do this all the time?"

Something made me be honest. "Well, no.  Actually this is my
first time."

"Well, whatever you're doing, it's working.  Or maybe I just
really like you."

"I really like you too, Gayle."  I could feel her pressing
against my chest and my dick shot up like a rocket again.  I
really wanted to get it inside her, see what it felt like.

"Oh Marty!" she said in a choked voice and clutched at me,
shaking a little. It seemed like she was crying and I held
her, although she was holding me so tightly that I wasn't even
sure she noticed.

"Are you alright?" I asked tentatively.

"Uh uh," she gasped.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I'm so emotional.  I
just wish -- oh, but you're so nice to me. I -- you want to?
Ok.  Ok."  She reached down and unbuckled her blue jeans and
we struggled to take off our pants inside the sleeping back.
I could smell her more strongly now, and dick was so hard it
hurt.  I opened the condom and slipped it on and then lay on
top of her, and I just popped inside her, moaning with
pleasure as her tight vagina squeezed and massaged me.  I
heard cry out a little, but I was so absorbed in my own
feelings of incredible pleasure that I really didn't pay
attention, I just moved on top of her and in seconds I
exploded.

I just lay there for half a minute, when she said, "Are you
all right?  You stopped."

"Uh, I came."

"Already?"  She muffled a laugh.  "I'm sorry, Marty.  I knew
guys came quickly, but I didn't know it was that quick.  Ooop!
You just popped out.  You better get rid of that condom before
it pops off.  Shouldn't you?"

"Oh yeah, right."  I reached down and carefully took it off
and chucked it outside the sleeping bag.

"Was it ok for you?"  I asked.

"It was fine.  Well, actually, it hurt.  And I think I'm
bleeding."

"Oh god, I'm sorry I --

"It's ok.  I think it's normal for a first time.  I'm probably
getting blood all over your sleeping bag."

"That's ok.  I mean, it's sort of my fault.  I'm really sorry
I --

"Oh Marty don't apologize.  I love you.  Oh damn!"  She
started crying.

"Gayle, what's wrong?"

"Oh I don't know.  Why did I say that?  I probably just blew
everything."

I had a feeling I knew what she was talking about, but I
pretended not to.  "What do you mean?"

"I just said something stupid.  I --

I took a deep breath.  "I love you too."

"You do?  Oh, Marty, Marty.  I love you so much."  She held on
to me with a force that surprised me, and then what also
surprised me was that my dick started rising again, pushing
into her leg.  She felt it and laughed.  "Wow!"

"Shit, I only thought to buy one."

She put her hands on my cheeks and kissed me hard.  "Next time
you'll know.  Ok?"

Next time!  I was in heaven.

3

There were quite a few next times that summer.  Getting a
little smarter, with my experience, I got a ride to a drug
store in the next town and bought so many condoms there that
the sales lady must have thought I was shopping for a local
army unit, but I got them nevertheless.  And from there on in,
two or three times a week, depending on the weather and our
"responsibilities" at camp, we went down to our secret place
and screwed.  She was pretty sore at first, but by the end of
the third week, she seemed to be as into it as I was, more so
based on how noisy she was.  I was sure that someone would
hear us and check us out, but maybe no one did, or maybe they
were all busy doing something themselves.  One thing was sure.
I was going to need a new sleeping bag after the summer.

It was very had to think of anything but Gayle and soon
everyone knew we were an item.  I didn't say much about the
sex, but since I was carrying a sleeping bag around, back and
forth, and had a bunch of condoms not too well hidden, I
became a bit of a hero to the other JCs.  Gayle was pretty
enough that they could all be openly jealous.

One night, after we'd just done it twice and were lying in
each other's arms, Gayle asked me what I was thinking.  I just
told her the truth, I was thinking about her body.  Her
breasts, her waist, her arms, her shoulders, her legs, her
ass.  I went on and on, and she giggled each time I named
another body part.

"So Marty, what do you, like, think about when we're making
love?"

"I don't know.  All sorts of things.  Your breasts, your ass.
You know."

"So you like them?"

"I love them.  I love you."  I kissed her and she kissed back
and we almost started up a third time when she stopped me.

"No, wait.  I wanna talk a little first.  I mean -- do you
wish I were different in any way?"

"No.  You're great."

"I mean, like in your fantasies.  I mean, like, of course I
don't look _exactly_ like the girl you've always fantasized
about, right?"

I got a little uncomfortable.  "Well, you're pretty close," I
said.

"So, if you could make me look any way you wanted, would you
want me to have bigger breasts?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah.  I mean, I just want to know about you, Marty.  I know
you love me."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure.  So tell me, bigger breasts?  Like Wendy
Myers?"

I laughed.  "Not _that_ big.  But, yeah, I like breasts."

"And a bigger ass?"

"Uh uh.  Yours is perfect.  Really tight.  And I like the way
it moves when you walk."  I was getting into this.  "Actually,
that's the thing I noticed first about you, the way you move."

"Really?  We're all kind of athletic in my family.  So what
else?  How about my legs?"

"They're great.  No jiggles."  I laughed.

"So you like a girl that stays in shape."

"Definitely."  I paused a second.  Did I really want to tell
her this?  Well why not?  "Can I tell you something else that
turns me on?"

"Sure!  I want to know everything about you, Marty."

"I don't know if I should.  It's kind of embarrassing."

"Come on."

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course not!  Is it weird?  Like pinky toes or underarms?"

"No, not that.  It's . . . . well, I've always fantasized
about girls with muscles."

"Muscles?  Really?"

"Yeah."  I didn't say anything for a minute.  "I think
sometimes, you know, about a girl who is stronger than me, who
can, you know, physically push me around.  I mean, not to hurt
me or anything, but, you know, who could do what she wanted
with me, and I couldn't do anything about it."

"Uh huh!  That's interesting.  I thought guys didn't like
girls who were too muscular.  I thought guys like to be
stronger and be in control."

"I don't know.  I suppose that's true for most guys.  It's not
like I don't like being in control.  Maybe I'm just weird.
It's a fantasy, you know.  It's not like I don't love your
body.  I feel kind of funny about admitting it, but I always
check out girls' biceps, like when they're carrying a lot of
books or lifting things."

"So, you mean really big ones?"

"I don't know.  I've never seen a girl with really big ones.
I don't suppose they can get too big, because of their
hormones.  At least I've never seen any, except on a show on
women's bodybuilding once on ESPN.  But I think most of them
were on steroids.  That would be a real turnoff, you know?"

"Uh huh.  So, uh, what about mine?"

"I don't know."  I could feel her flexing her arm inside the
sleeping bag.

"Do you want to feel it?"

"Sure.  I guess so.  You don't mind?"

"Mind!?  You can touch any part of me, Marty, you know that.
I mean, so long as nobody's looking!"

I reached over and felt her arm.  "Hey, it's pretty hard."

"Well, I told you we're all kind of athletic."  She felt it
too.  "It's ok.  It's not very big though, is it?"

"No.  But, hey, Gayle.  It's no big deal.  I mean, it's just a
fantasy."

"But, like, it would really turn you on if they were bigger?"

"I don't you.  Yes, I guess so.  But . . . ."

"Are you embarrassed?  Don't be, please!  I wanted to know."

"Yeah, but, well, I . . . . I never told anyone before.  Other
than a guy I knew who gave me a really weird look."

"Oh, I love that you told me!  It makes me feel really
special."  She put her arms around me and hugged me, hard.
"But I am pretty strong, aren't I?"

She was.  In fact she was almost hurting me.  "Yeah!  You
are."

"Is that kind of a turn on?"

Actually, I was getting pretty hard.  I liked feeling her
squeeze me.  Not so it hurt.  But it was almost like my
fantasy.

"Hey!  I can feel you.  You _do_ like it."

"Yeah, I guess so.  I had no idea you were that strong."

"My oldest brother is really strong.  He lifts weights.  We're
all big boned, even though I'm kind of short.  But we're late
bloomers."

I put my arms around her and squeezed her back.

"Oooh.  Not so tight!  That hurt a little."

"Sorry, I --"

"You're still a lot stronger than me, Marty.  You could really
hurt me if you tried hard like I was doing.  I was, you know,
just trying to impress you.  'Cause of what you said."

"I'm sorry, I was just --

She pulled me closer and put her finger on my lips.  "Don't
apologize!  I'm just sorry I can't do what you want.  I mean,
I'm not strong enough to make you make love to me."  She
smiled. "But I can do it another way, like asking you, 'do you
have another condom?'  I think we need one."  I nodded and
reached outside to get it.

That was the last time we talked about it, although afterward
she wore a lot of sleeveless shirts and dresses, and I did get
a kick out of seeing her little muscles pop out every so
often.  She knew it too.

A week before camp ended, Gayle came up to me crying.  It was
unusual to see her then, because she knew I was working that
day.

"Marty!  It happened!"

"What?!"  I panicked.  Was she pregnant?

"My parents.  My mom just called.  They're getting a divorce!
And I have to move!"

"You're kidding!  Where?"

"New Hampshire!  I can't believe it!  Some little town up
there, in the middle of nowhere!  My Aunt lives there, and my
Mom thought it would be easier for her to have family around."

"But what about your Dad?"

"I don't know.  Mom doesn't know.  They've been fighting all
summer and --"

"Marty!"  thundered Alan, the "real" counselor.  "Are you
watching those kids?  You're supposed to be responsible!"

"Sorry Alan.  Just give me a minute, I --

"No!  You do this personal stuff later.  Look Miss, I'm going
to have to tell you to leave."

"Just hold on a second, Alan.  Gayle, can I see you tonight?"

"I have to go, Marty.  My mom's picking me up this afternoon.
I have to help her move."

"Marty!"

"Fuck off Alan.  Can't you see that --

Alan blew his whistle and the kids stopped what they were
doing.  "All right, everybody out of the pool, until Marty
finishes talking to his girlfriend."

"You're an asshole Alan."

He came up to me and shoved me to the ground.  "You should
talk, buddy.  Want to settle it tonight?"

Alan was about five inches taller than me and weighed over 200
pounds, so I didn't want to settle it with him.  "No, that's
alright Alan.  I'll just explain this to Mr. Rollins.  I'm
sure he wouldn't want this to get out of hand."

He glared at me.

"Gayle, I can't talk now."

"I know, Marty.  I just wanted to say goodbye."  We nodded, a
real goodbye kiss seemed out of the question.  She turned and
ran away, and I was sure she was crying.  Just then, the
whistle blew.  Time for the next activity.

"All right.  Extra laps for everyone next time.  Thank Marty
for that!"

The kids glared at Alan.  They knew he was just being an
asshole.  One of them, a nice kid who was about eleven, said
to me, as I walked them back to the tent to get changed for
softball, "Is that your girlfriend?"

I nodded.

"Man!  She's sexy!"

I thought about it.  Yeah, she wasn't bad.  But now the summer
was over.

4

I got one letter from Gayle the last day of camp and then two
more at home before I wrote her back.  I didn't really know
what to say.  Hers were filled with all sorts of news about
their new town, and then went on for paragraphs about how much
she missed me and how she thought about me all day long, and
at nights too.  Some parts of her letters gave me a real hard
on, and I told her that in mine, but I didn't really know what
else to say.  My life was pretty normal, boring even.  I was
back with my usual school year gang of friends, then in
school, getting ready for boards, college applications,
worrying about grades and doing homework.

She probably sent me three letters for every one I sent back,
but I must have been doing something right because she kept
writing.  In one of them she sent me a picture in front of her
new house.  Actually it wasn't hers; they were renting it, and
it was pretty small, but it was just her and her mother, so I
guess it was big enough for them.  She was wearing a fall
coat, so I couldn't really see her very well.  All I knew was
it was a far cry from seeing and feeling her in a sleeping bag
at camp.

In a couple of letters she asked whether I might be able to
come up and visit, but I couldn't see how I could do it.  The
first chance would be Thanksgiving, but my parents would never
let me miss the annual trip to Grandma's in Maryland, and then
after that was Christmas.  I asked my Mom one day, casually,
and she raised all sorts of issues, like I'd never traveled so
far by myself and she didn't know the mother and it was
expensive and all that, so I had a feeling it wasn't going to
happen.  On the off chance that Gayle might come down here, I
asked Mom whether she'd have any objection, and from her
reaction I knew it would be a long battle.  So I said I
probably couldn't.  We settled into a regular routine -- a lot
less satisfying than the one over the summer, but pretty
regular and a little comforting.  Until I met Shari.

I'd known Shari since kindergarten, and we'd always been kind
of friendly in the way schoolkids are.  I can remember in
third grade when for about a month I'd steal her hat every
day, until her Mom complained to the principal, and in seventh
grade we ended up sitting next to each other at an assembly
and joked around a bit, but since I hadn't dated at all and
she was, after all, one of the cuter girls in school, I never
really tried with her.  But the summer with Gayle gave me
quite a bit of extra confidence, and one day when I noticed
she was by herself at lunch I went over to her on impulse and
asked if I could set down with her.  She smiled, and before I
knew it, lunchtime was over and I was in love.  She had dark
hair and was about 5'6", with long legs and nice breasts,
which I always knew, but during lunch I noticed that her face
had a kind of sparkle to it that I liked.  I asked her what
she was doing that Friday night and she said she had a party
to go to, but then brightened up and asked whether I wanted to
come.  I said sure.

Well, it was a typical high school party.  We danced a little
and had a couple of drinks, and then I suggested we go, and
she quickly agreed.  She lived in the nice part of town, and
her parents were out traveling, so we went to her place.  I
could tell she liked me, and this time I was fully prepared.
I can tell you that screwing on a bed is a lot better than in
a sleeping bag!

Shari wasn't a virgin, but whoever she'd screwed before wasn't
much of a lover.  She was ready to let me come and then get on
to other things, but when I used some of the stuff I'd learned
on Gayle, she started screaming in pleasure and must have come
four times before I did.  I felt like a real stud, and I knew
I had her.

As you can guess, my letter writing started tailing off after
that.  I'd let five or six letters come now before writing
back, and my letters got shorter and less detailed.  Then hers
started coming less frequently.  Reading them, I could tell
she was having a hard time making new friends, and her mother
wasn't around much because she had to work.

Her letters were all pretty much the same.  She'd write about
how the summer was the last happy time in her life, and she
thought of me a lot.  She wished I'd write more, but she knew
how boys were, and she understood.   She just wished she could
see me again, and that I could see her.  She knew that if we
could get together everything would be like it was, or better.
Then she'd write about how sad she was.  Some of the letters
had tear stains on the ink.

I felt really guilty, and then one day I decided to write her
to tell her I had a new girlfriend.  I told her that I really
liked her, but that time had passed and I met someone from my
school who I liked a lot.  I said I hoped we could still be
friends, but I wasn't in love with her anymore, and I hoped
she understood.  My heart beat really hard when I sealed the
letter and dropped it in the box, and I felt pretty funny for
the next week.  Shari noticed it.

She put her arm around me and lifted her head a little to kiss
me.  "What's wrong Marty?  You've been very quiet, you know."

"Yeah, uh, well, you know, Shari, I had a girlfriend this
summer."

"Yeah?"  She looked a little concerned.

"Well, it's nothing for you to worry about.  In fact, I just
told her she'd have to forget about me.  That it was over."

I felt her clutch my arm a little more tightly.  "You did?  I
didn't know you were still in love with her, Marty."

"I wasn't.  I mean, not since I met you.  I just didn't get
around to telling her.  About you, you know."

"Marty.  You did the right think telling her, you know.  It's
always best to be honest.  That way, she can go on with her
life too.  Just as you have."  She pulled me down for a bigger
kiss.

"I just feel badly about it.  Her parents just got divorced.
She's going through a tough time."

"But Marty.  There's nothing you can do about it from here.
Where does she live?"

"New Hampshire now."

"New Hampshire!"  I thought I heard a sigh of relief.  "That's
really far!"

"I know.  She was -- but Shari it's over.  That's why I wrote
the letter.  Because I know it's over."

"Well, I'm glad you told her.  You know, Marty, you should
have told me before.  But I'm glad I know now.  I was worried
about you.  I thought there was a problem or something."

"Oh no, Shari.  Not at all!"  I put my arms around her and
squeezed her ass, thinking for just a moment about how firm
Gayle's ass was, and then forgetting as Shari's nimble tongue
invaded my mouth.


5

I still worried a little bit about Gayle, but the truth was
she was fading a bit in my memory.  It took almost three weeks
to get a reply to my letter, and I could tell by the way it
was written that she'd thought about what to say in that
letter many times before she sent it.  This is what the first
and last parts said.

"Marty, you don't know how devastated I was to read your
letter.  I started shaking from the first word.  I don't know
how I knew, but I knew what it would say.  Every word.  I kept
reading it over and over, hoping it would come out
differently, but each time was the same.  Worse even"

Then, at the end.

"The only consolation I could find is that you didn't tell me
you loved your new girlfriend.  I believe we had something
really special this summer, and knowing that keeps me going.
And I won't give that up.  I think you'll come back to me, and
I'll wait until you realize it.  So, if this Sherrie (my
handwriting is pretty bad) seems to you like she's good for
you, then I just have to learn to accept it.  But you have to
understand that someday you'll be with me again.  I'm sure of
it."

"Take care of yourself, Marty.  I still love you and I'll
always love you."

It wasn't what I expected, but at least it wasn't a threat to
kill herself or other kinds of things I had feared.  And
actually, things seemed to work out all right.  She started
writing regularly again, not like before, but about once a
week.  They were chatty letters, without much mush, and I
would write back about once a month, the same way.  It was
kind of like having a pen pal, but it made me feel less
guilty, and it even seemed like she had taken my advice so
that we'd be friends again.  Once I went so far to ask her in
a friendly way whether she had another boyfriend.  The reply
in her letter was the only sharp thing she had ever said to
me.

"How can you ask whether I have a boyfriend?  I still love
you, Marty, and I'll always love you.  Don't you know that?
I've dedicated my whole life to you.  It's the only thing that
keeps me going.  Don't ever believe otherwise."

And then she went on to tell me about how the girls'
basketball team was going to the State Championships, about
decorating the Christmas  tree, how cold it was getting, and
all sorts of other trivia.  It seemed normal enough, and I
went on writing as if nothing had happened.

I didn't tell Shari though that I was still in touch with
Gayle.  It just didn't seem like a good idea.

6

I didn't go back to Hiawatha that summer.  I decided I could
make more money at home, and besides, I was having too much
fun with Shari. We were part of a clique at school now, and
the parties were great.  It looked like it would be a terrific
summer.  And it was too.  I made good money as a waiter and
working odd jobs, and nights with Shari were terrific.  Even
my parents liked her, and after one "frank" discussion with my
Dad, they gave me a pretty loose curfew as long as I promised
always to use protection.  Hey, I was young, but I wasn't
stupid.

I still heard from Gayle regularly.  Her letters changed in
tone a bit.  She was more confident, less unhappy.  I figured
she was getting over me, which made me a little sad, but
overall it seemed for the best.  She was right about one
thing.  I wasn't really in love with Shari.  Exactly why I
wasn't sure.  Maybe it was the difference between first love
and second love.  Maybe Shari wasn't exactly right for me.
Maybe it was the constant reminders from Gayle, writing every
week.  I didn't really know.  But the sex was great, she was
fun, and I was having the best time I could have imagined.
I'd come a long way from being a freshman.

Senior year was typical.  I worked hard deciding where to go
to school, trying to keep my grades up, trying to figure which
Ivy League school would be good for me and would give me
enough money so that I could go.  Dad was pushing Harvard, but
with ten kids from school applying there, I didn't hold out
much hope.  The safe school would be University of
Pennsylvania, but I visited there and I hated the campus.
Same with Columbia.  So I ended up applying to one of the top
three, and one other.  The second was going to be Brown, but
then I got a letter from a math professor at Dartmouth who
said he'd seen a proof in a competition I'd entered (I don't
brag about these things, but I do have a talent for numbers),
and wondered whether I wanted to attend there.  My parents
were pleased, and we put in a full court press for a
scholarship there, which I got.  In the end, I did get into
Harvard, but they offered me almost zilch for a scholarship,
so I was bound for the frozen north.

I actually felt a little funny about the idea of going to
Dartmouth.  After all, it wasn't all that far from where Gayle
lived.  I didn't even tell her I had applied there, and when I
visited the campus I came and went without calling her.
Somehow, I figured it wouldn't be right to see her and start
things all over again.  So, I kept writing and talking
generally about college without telling her where I'd applied,
and she didn't say anything about college either.  I didn't
want to mention it first, so it just lay there, unsaid.  Who
knew?  Maybe money was so tight for her that she wouldn't be
going at all, so it would have been wrong for me to say
anything. It sure felt awkward though.  In fact, the closer I
came to leaving for school, the more awkward I felt about not
having said anything.  Finally, I decided the easiest and best
thing was to say nothing at all, which was easier because her
letters were slowing down too.  Things weren't easy, but it
seemed like they were working out for the best.

As for my girlfriend at home, Shari and I were drifting apart.
She was going to Stanford, in California, and neither of us
really believed our relationship would survive, although we
pretended it would.  By the end of July, we already started
easing off.  She'd disappear a lot into Manhattan with her
mother, shopping for clothes for school while I was working
like a dog trying to save up for the school year.   Not that I
was lacking for companionship.  There were always girls at the
beach, and as a senior who was very comfortable with girls, I
had my pick.  There was Sarah, a tall blond junior who had a
loud laugh and very large breasts, Melanie, who somehow had a
cunt that squeezed me better than anyone else, and who also
could come faster than any girl I'd had, and Becky, who was
another senior and would be attending U. Conn.  Becky was very
quiet and didn't pal around much, but she was cute and liked
me and interestingly was very strong.  Not that I let on that
I liked that particularly, but I did enjoy her body quite a
bit, especially the way her legs would grip me just before she
was about to come.


7

Going up to Dartmouth was a little disorienting.  Driving up
with my Mom and Dad, leaving the heat and traffic of New York
for the cooler country roads of Connecticut, then
Massachusetts, and then New Hampshire felt like I was entering
another world.  When I arrived, I realized I had forgotten
entirely how small Hanover was.  The campus was pretty, that
was for sure, but was I really going to spend four years, and
especially four winters, there?

The girls up there were also nothing like Sarah, Melanie or
Becky, or even Shari for that matter.  They were bright and
sensitive, with all sorts of questions about whether they
should be spending time on relationships instead of studies,
unless of course the relationships were with senior members of
the football or crew teams.  And there weren't very many of
them, so they definitely had the upper hand.  I could go out
with townies, of course, but that wasn't exactly acceptable,
except for weekend frat parties.  It was understood that they
were ok for screwing, but one wasn't supposed to see a townie
more than once.

And then there was the money thing, and the lack of a car.

But after a few weeks, I did meet someone, a girl in my
English class whose name was Krina and called herself Phoebe.
I hadn't ever heard of doing such a thing, but she was very
determined about the name she'd invented for herself, and it
cost me nothing to go along.  Before too long, we'd realized
we were not going to be anything more than friends, but she
introduced me to a few of her friends, one of whom, Lisel, I
started seeing more and more frequently.

Lisel was an quiet, intense girl from a suburb of Chicago.
She had lived in Germany as an exchange student for a year,
was fluent in French, German and Dutch, and had already
published several poems in some literary journals.  She had
long dark hair and intense, green eyes, and didn't wear a bra,
despite having breasts that bounced suggestively at any slight
shift in her position.  For some reason, she found my
description of multidimensional calculus "poetic and
profound," and we soon ended up in bed on a nightly basis,
both for screwing and for long discussions about our "souls."
Being more into equations than philosophy, this was pretty new
to me, and I was pretty skeptical, but the newness of the
experience, her enthusiasm in bed, and the sheer ease and
comfort of a private room with no parents who might burst in
made me an easy convert to her cause.

Meanwhile, my mother forwarded a couple of letters I was
getting from Gayle.  She didn't say anything about college,
and I couldn't read the postmark because it was overstamped
from the forwarding.  So I assumed she still was home in New
Hampshire.  It seemed silly to be so close to her and not to
get in touch, but I was busy with school and Lisel, so I
didn't see any reason to do so.

Lisel's best friend from Chicago was at Mount Holyoke, and she
went away to visit her for one weekend, which is why I was in
the library on a cold October Friday night when there was an
inane football rally.  I was working on a particularly
difficult math problem involving tenth dimensional space and
just making some progress when the guard told me they were
closing up and I really shouldn't be in the library on
Saturday night anyway, right?  He was just being friendly, but
it I wasn't really ready to go and wasn't in the mood for a
Friday night on campus without Lisel.  I packed up my books,
left them in my cubbyhole and figured I'd go to the pizza hall
for a snack.

I walked through the dark campus and started getting an uneasy
feeling that someone was following me, but when I'd turn
around I couldn't see anyone.  I kept dismissing the thought,
figuring it was my lingering New York anxiety, but I kept to
the brighter paths, until I realized they would take me right
by the stadium where the rally was.  That was the last thing I
wanted to go to, so choosing between a known dislike and
uncertain danger, I chose danger and went the back way.

I immediately got the feeling again, and turned around, but I
couldn't see anyone.  I finally got to the student union, but
my heart was beating too quickly to eat.  Instead, I went
around the corner and back to my room.  It was very strange.

Soon after I arrived, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Marty?"

"Gayle!  Is that you?"

"Hi Marty."  There was a pause.  It sounded like she was
crying.  "I'm sorry.  It's just . . . . it's so good to hear
your voice."

"Uh, how did you know I was here?  How did you get my dorm
number?"

"Oh Marty.  I've missed you so much.  Are you busy?  Can I see
you?"

"It's uh, it's eleven thirty.  Where are you anyway?"

"Uh, I'm nearby.  I've been -- Marty, I have so much to tell
you!"

Her voice sounded a little different, a little crazy maybe,
and anxious, hyped up.  It unnerved me a bit.  But it was
Gayle.  There was nothing to be afraid of.  I was just being
anti-social, I told myself, and I really had to stop that.

"Are you going to school, Gayle?"

"No, not just -- I'd really rather see you in person.  Then we
can talk.  I hate the telephone.  How about it?"

"Uh, now?"

"Yes.  I can come by really soon.  Is that ok?"

"Sure.  Ok."

She hung up without saying goodbye.

I looked around my room at my unmade bed, my clothes on the
floor, my open books scattered on my desk.  I pulled up the
sheets and stuffed my clothes into the laundry bag and opened
the window to the cold air to freshen up the room.  Then, not
knowing what to expect, I washed up a little.  And then while
I debated whether to change the sheets altogether, my phone
rang again. She was downstairs already.

"I'll buzz you in."

"No, no.  Let's, uh, let's take a walk. Ok?"

That would be safer.  "Sure.  I'll be right down."

I pulled on a jacket and headed down to see her.


8

I didn't really know what to expect.  I hadn't seen her in
over two years.  I had grown a couple of inches and was now
5'11".  I had filled out a bit too, although I was a long way
from having a linesman's build.  Not that the life up at
Dartmouth had helped much.  So I figured she'd be pleasantly
surprised when she saw me.  Then I got annoyed with myself.
What was I thinking -- trying to impress Gayle?  I was still
at war with myself when I arrived at the door.  I pushed it
open and looked around.

"Marty!  I'm over here!"  Gayle was standing off by the side,
about twenty yards from the door.  I walked over.  Something
was different.  She was taller.  As I got closer I realized --
she was almost as tall as I was.

"Gayle!  You've grown!"

"Marty!  Oh, Marty!  I am so glad to see you."  She put her
arms around me and gave me a hug pulling me close to her.  I
recognized that smell.  It sure was Gayle, and despite my own
reservations, I put my arms around her and held her tightly
too.  It was strange, she felt different, but it definitely
was her.   We held each other for a couple of minutes and then
let go.  I looked at her face in the lamplight.  There was
something new in it, but I couldn't put my finger on it.  It
was like the wildness I'd heard in her voice.

For want of anything else to say, I blurted,  "I can't believe
how tall you've gotten.  You're almost as tall as I am!"

"I know!  I've been shooting up this last year.  All my family
are late bloomers.  I was wondering if I'd be taller than you,
but you grew too!"

"Yeah, a couple of inches."

"It is so great to see you.  I've missed you so much, Marty.
So, so, much.  Oh, and you smell exactly the same, just the
way I'd remembered."  Impulsively she put her arms around me
and gave me a short, sharp squeeze.  "I just can believe I'm
seeing you again!"

"It's good to see you too, Gayle.  Really."  I didn't really
know what to say.  I wanted to know what she was doing with
herself, but I'd asked her already and she hadn't answered.

"Why don't we take a walk somewhere? Let's just stay away from
the rally.  I didn't want to go to it before, and I don't want
to now."

"Sure Marty.  Whatever you say.  Why don't we walk through
town?  We could go to the Dunkin Donuts or something."

I agreed.  I felt a little guilty, not telling her I was up
here, so to keep things easy, I chatted about silly things,
like how early the leaves fell up here, or how little there
was in the Manchester Union Leader about the New York Giants.
It didn't seem matter to Gayle.  She stared at me while we sat
at our little table at Dunkin Donuts, nodding at every point I
made, her hands fluttering nervously, like she wanted to touch
me but was afraid to.  It actually made me feel anxious
watching her.  Of course, I was more than a bit ambivalent
about seeing her too, which didn't make me do much to put her
more at ease.  Finally, she bit the bullet and said what was
on her mind.

"Oh Marty this is -- this is just so dumb.  I mean, here we
are, at your college, and we're sitting in a donut shop in
town.  We could be having so much more fun, you know, back in
your room."

I must have just stared at her.

"What's wrong Marty?  Have things changed so much?  I know
it's been a long time -- I've missed you so much, and --  I
hoped you'd be really happy to see me too."

"I am.  Of course I am.  It's just -- I"

"You're seeing someone else?  Is that it, Marty?"

"Well, I --

"Oh, I'm sorry, Marty.  I mean, I already knew that. I don't
want to mess up your life or anything.  I understand.  You're
very loyal and faithful, aren't you, and she's probably very
important to you."

I looked at her earnest face.  "Well, actually, I've --" I
stopped.  Was she that innocent?  She must think I was a lot
better person than I really was, which could be a real pain.
But I looked down her body. She certainly was no longer as
"cute" as she had been two summers ago.  She was slightly
ungainly now. Her face was longer, her shoulders wider, her
breasts larger too.  She didn't carry herself with the same
lightness and agility, which I had loved then.  But she was
making herself available to me.  Why not, for old times' sake?
"I'm sorry, Gayle.  It's just a bit of a surprise to see you,
but you know, it is really great.  I mean, I'll be honest.  I
am seeing someone -- Lisel -- but just for a short time.  I
don't really know where it's going.  You know, I've just
gotten here . . . ."  I trailed off.  "Uh, why don't we take a
walk back to the campus?"

"Sure.  That would be great!"  She bounced up from the little
seat and I stood and put my arm around her. She was bigger
than before, but she curled into my arm just as she had then,
fitting easily like she'd found her home again, and beamed at
me.  We walked back.

"So you were playing basketball?"

"Oh yeah.  You remember that from my letters!  I used to play
with my brothers all the time, but they're so big I'd have to
shoot from outside.  I got pretty good.  Then when I shot up
this year, I made "all state."  It was a big thing around
here." Then, in a lower voice "not much else to do except
sports."

"Yeah, I bet."

We walked quickly and arrived back while a few people were
sprinkling back from the rally.  One guy I knew saw me with
Gayle and gave me a "you scored with a townie" look, and I
nodded back quickly and bundled her into my room.

"Hey, you have your own room and everything."

"Yeah, most people do.  It's nice."

She looked at my books.  "Wow, this math stuff is really
difficult.  I knew you were good, but I can't even read this."

"It's a pretty good course.  But it's hard."

"Oh, not for you Marty."

"Uh, what about you Gayle?  Are you going to go to school."

"I don't know.  Not this year.  I have to work.  Money, you
know.  I may take some courses at the local two year college,
but not like this.  This is fantastic for you.  You must be
really proud to be here."

"Well, yeah, but, it's nothing special."

"Oh Marty, don't be so modest.  You're the smartest person I
know."  She smiled.  "And I still think you're very good
looking, you know."  She looked down at the floor and said in
a tone that mixed hunger, curiosity and wistfulness, "You've
probably had lots of experience since a couple of summers
ago."

"Yeah, well, you know," I mumbled.  I just kept feeling uneasy
around her, but I was getting more and more turned on having
her in my small room, and knowing that I could have her in a
second if I made even a tiny move.

She stretched and took off her jacket, laying it carefully on
my desk chair.  "It's kind of hot in here, don't you think?"

I took the hint.  "Well, I'm not opening any windows, so -- "
I held out my arms and she rushed into them, practically
knocking me over, and wrapped me in a hug.  We fell onto the
narrow bed together and I held her, then pulled back to
unbutton her blouse.

As I got near the bottom button, she cleared her throat.  "Uh,
Marty, don't be too surprised, but, uh, I think you'll like
them.  I hope you do."

I looked up at her for a moment.  "What?"  I looked down at
her chest.  She must have been at least a C cup now, maybe a
D.  "They are larger Gayle.  But what's not to like?  I just
want to get your bra off and --

"Oh, not my breasts, silly. Here."  She sat up and finished
with the front of her shirt, then reached back to unhook her
bra, which sprang off.  Her breasts were large and very round.
I reached over to touch them.  "You still like them, Marty?
I've really missed you touching them."

I felt her right breast.  If it wasn't the largest I'd
fondled, it certainly ranked pretty high.  I was about to
start sucking the other when I stopped, curious.  "What did
you mean?  What's the surprise?"

She smiled.  "You said you like them.  I hope you really do."
She slipped off the rest of her shirt and I saw them, her bare
arms, long, with soft, feminine hair and biceps -- real
biceps.

I stared.  "Where did you get those?"

"Why I -- I've been working out.  I work out all the time.
Since you told me . . . that you liked girls with muscles.  I
thought -- but Marty, do you like them?"  She looked at me a
bit fearfully.

"I've never seen muscles like these on a girl, at least not up
close," I said softly.  I put my hand on her right biceps and
squeezed a little.  Her upper arm was solid and I could feel a
hard ball of muscle under her soft skin.  I could feel an
uncomfortable stabbing from my own hard mass, buried in my
blue jeans, and I shifted position slightly.  Then I noticed
it wasn't only her arms.  Her shoulders weren't just broad,
they were peaked with a layer of hard muscle.  I could see the
thick cords of trapezious muscles too, and her back was a
solid mosaic of hard flesh.  I looked at her abdomen; it too
bore a solid six-pack.  Gayle had been very thorough.  She was
built all over!

She put her hand on my crotch and felt my cramped dick.  "Oh,
Marty.  It does really turn you on!  Can we take it out of
there?  I want to see it.  It's been such a long time."  I
nodded, half-dazed, unbuckled my belt and stripped off my
pants.  My dick popped through the hole in shorts, aiming
right at Gayle.  She reached over and quickly put her large
hand around it, gently squeezing and running her hand up and
down a few times.  I groaned with pleasure.   "Come on, Marty.
Let's get into your bed."  I snapped out of my daze, pulled
her pants off too, noticing while I did that her legs were a
more defined than mine, and rolled on top of her.  She put her
arms around me and kissed me.  "Oh Marty.  I've dreamed about
this for so long.  Do you know that?  Oh Marty, I want to feel
you everywhere."

I ran my hand up and down her body.  I couldn't believe how
hard her muscles were.  Everywhere I felt was the rise and
fall of hard tissue.  I kissed her everywhere, and she groaned
and shrieked in enthusiasm.

"Marty, lie on me, please.  I want you so much.  I can take
your weight now, really, because I'm bigger.  You feel so
wonderful to me.  Oh yes, inside, oh, deeper.  Yes!  YES!! Oh
more.   Oh yes.  OH YES!!!"

That sort of thing went on for quite awhile, not to bore you.

After a couple of orgasms for me, and as far as I could tell,
eight or so for her, we lay together side by side, breathing
heavily.  She propped her head up on her hand, looking at me
and smiling.  My eyes strayed once again to her biceps, now
slightly expanded.  She caught my look.  "Marty!  You're not
being shy are you?  Do you want to see how big they get?  I
mean, you've hardly even touched them."  I put my hand on it,
fingering the hard lump and the dark vein running along the
top.  She sat up, taking my hand so that I sat up with her,
and cocked her arm, then started flexing it.  I watched
transfixed as her biceps coalesced, then rose higher and
higher, a solid trapezoid of muscle the size of a small
orange.  Feeling a little embarrassed, but intensely curious,
I reached over to squeeze them.  There was hardly any give at
all.

"I did it for you Marty.  I've worked a couple of hours a day
in the gym, every day, for almost two years.  I wanted to make
myself special for you.  You do like it, don't you?"

Incredibly, I was already hard again.  I couldn't believe that
Gayle had grown like this.  I bent down and kissed her biceps,
running my lips over its hard core, while feeling the softness
of the skin above it.  I opened my mouth, absorbing through my
lips the size, the power, the mass of her arms.  I felt
completely transported into a realm of fantasy, to a world I
had dreamed of only in my masturbatory imaginings.  I put my
hand on her other biceps, and Gayle flexed for me.  The sense
of it growing under my hand was almost more than I could take,
and I trembled slightly.  I put my free hand around her back
and pulled her closer, and I heard a little cry from her, of
joy, relief, pleasure, fulfillment.

"Oh Marty!  You have no idea how this makes me feel.  I could
just die here, and I would have everything I'd always dreamed
of.  Oh, is there anything, anything I can do for you?
Anything I could give you?"

There was, but could I say it?  I had to know.  My voice was
cracking.  "Are you very strong too, Gayle?  I mean, how
strong are you?"

"Oh yes, Marty.  I could lift you without any trouble.  Want
to see?"  I nodded.  She put her hands under my ass and slid
off the bed holding me, then lifted me into the air.  I was
sitting on her hands, all 170 pounds of me, and she was
holding me as steadily as a chair would. I looked at her
muscles, pumped and even larger now from the effort.  My dick
was pointing straight up again, and she pulled me closer so
that it rested between her breasts.  With my arms I pushed her
breasts into my dick and gently massaged it up and down.   She
slowly rocked me up and down, her muscles expanding with each
rise.  I thought I would come again, when I felt her arms
start to tremble.

"Gayle, don't hurt yourself!"

"Oh Marty, but you're almost there. I could feel it.  Just a
little --

"Put me down, Gayle. Please.  Don't overdo it."

"Ok, Marty. Sure."  She dropped me onto the bed.  She was
breathing heavily. "Oh Marty, you are so generous.  I bet most
guys wouldn't have noticed.  But if I were just a little
stronger, I could have done it.  I'm sure of it."

"I'm amazed."

"Oh, that means so much to me, Marty.  You were being honest
with me that night when you told me, and I really took it to
heart.  I want to be everything you want in a girl.  I want to
fulfill every fantasy you've ever had."

I shook my head.  "I really can't believe this, Gayle.  This
has been an incredible night."

"Oh yes.  And it isn't over."

It was three in the morning.  I was getting pretty tired,
especially with three hours of athletic sex after a long day.
"I don't know.  I'm pretty beat.  Hey, Gayle, how did you get
here?"

"I drove."

"Um, listen, I can walk you to your car."

"Oh no Marty!  I don't want to drive home now.  Besides,
you're not finished."  She fingered my still erect dick and
rubbed her biceps against it.  "See?  Your muscle likes mine."

God, it turned me on to see her muscle play with my dick, as I
watched her massage it lightly just by making her muscle rise
and fall.

"This is such a kick.  Look how it turns you on!"

"Yeah, well I really do find it a -- but I'm really tired.  I
really want to stop and go to -- hey what are you doing?"
Gayle was lying on top of me now.

"Go on, try to get away."

"Gayle!  I don't want to hurt you."  She was fingering me very
lightly now, too lightly to make me come.  It was driving me
slightly crazy.  "That's nice but I really don't want to --

"Stop me then.  Come on, try to stop me."

"I don't hit girls."

"You don't have to hit me.  Just push me off.  See if you
can."

So this was her game.  She thought she was stronger than me.
I wasn't going to let that go.  I pushed her off, but then she
fought back.  We rolled around on the bed a bit, then I got on
top of her and held her wrists down.

"There, see?"

She smiled.  "Bet you can't keep a good girl down."  Slowly,
she lifted her arms in the air, pushing me backwards.  I used
all my strength and my weight to keep her down.  I was still
bigger than her, but maybe she was in better shape, I thought.
Sure enough, before I knew it, she was sitting up and my arms
were pushed above my head.  I was breathing hard too.

"You don't exercise much, do you Marty?"

"Who has time?" I said between breaths.

"Oh, I do.  I have lots of time." She pulled me close to her
and wrapped her arms around me.  "Oh Marty, I want to just
squeeze you so hard, but --

"Hey, uh, Gayle, it's really late and I --

"But I know what you really want.  You told me."

Suddenly, she pulled her hands out from under me and held me
down by my wrists.  I couldn't believe it.  I struggled to get
up, but I was totally pinned.

"I've got you and you can't get up!  There, how does that
feel?"

I struggled, but she held me fast.  I must be more out of
shape than I thought.  She propped herself up slightly and
starting rubbing my dick with her knee.  It felt almost
electric, like she had a direct connection with some pleasure
center in my brain.

"See Marty?  I'm stronger than you are.  A whole lot stronger,
I bet. My muscles are bigger and harder than yours.  I'm going
to make you come again and there's nothing you can do about
it.  Just like your fantasy.  So, poor you, you're just gonna
have to accept it!"

I bucked, trying to get her off, but she locked one of her
thick legs around mine.  I couldn't believe how strong her
legs were.  They completely immobilized me.  There was nothing
I could do, no matter how hard I strained.  She wasn't even
breathing heavily, while I was nearly exhausted. I stared at
her expanded biceps, inches from my face, as she pounded away
at my dick.  How did she ever get so big?

Meanwhile, Gayle kept varying the pace, speeding up, getting
me to the edge, then slowing down.  I could feel my whole body
tingling, wanting her to bring me all the way, but she was
playing with me.

"It's so different doing this to you, I mean, instead of
making love.  It's like, I can really see how you build up to
coming."  She laughed and started stroking me really hard
again, and I strained to get all the way there.  "Oh, I can
tell you like it.  Look at how hard you are, and we've been
making love all night.  You love my muscles, don't you?  My
being so strong.  Oh Marty, this is what I dreamed of!"  She
curled her fingers around my dick and brought it up and down,
really slowly.  "Watch my biceps, Marty.  See how they jump
every time I bring my hand up?"  I was, to be honest, totally
mesmerized.  Her muscle grew in slow motion as I watched.  I
couldn't help but stare.

"Oh my god, Marty, I'm getting hot just watching your eyes
look at it.  Oh, to think that my being strong turns you on so
much!"  She strained some more, and pushed her biceps up
another fraction of an inch.  "Oh, I just want to be as huge
as can be, just for you, Marty!  Look at me, look how big I
am.  Oh, you love it, don't you?"

"Yes, but please Gayle, let me come."

She looked at me a little strangely.  "You said you liked the
idea of a girl doing what she wants with you."

"Yes, but --

"You can't have it both ways, Marty.  If I stop and let you
take over, it'll ruin everything."

"But I'm so close.  You keep stopping and --

"I read it'll be better for you that way, in the end I mean,
that guys don't know how long they can stretch it out.  Really
Marty. It's true!"

"I want to come!!!"

She smiled.  "This is such a neat game.  I would never have
thought of it, but it's great!" She pushed my hands further
into the mattress, just so I didn't even think about trying
anything.  "Look at this!  The more strength I use, the more
your penis twitches.  You really like this, don't you Marty!"

Well, on one level I didn't, but obviously in another way I
did.  The idea that Gayle was physically dominating me like
this was an incredible turn on.  My rational side didn't like
it one bit, but that side wasn't exactly what was pointing up
at Gayle's face at the moment.

"You like to be in charge, like most guys I guess, but it
turns you on that a powerful woman can make you do things.
Right?"

"Gayle!"

"Come on, Marty, answer me."  She pushed down a little harder.
"Marty!"

Just then I came, shooting a massive load into the air.  My
whole body was shaking.

"Wow!  Look at that!  Look what I made you do!"

More gently now, she took me in her arms and held me.  "Now,
was that so bad, Marty?  You can go to sleep now, if you want
to."  I was still trembling from the excitement and the
relief, and I clutched at her, wanting to be close to her at
that second.  "Oh Marty!  I love you so much."  I didn't say
anything. I didn't have to, but then, I had no idea what to
say.  I didn't think I loved her.

But what an experience.


9

We fell asleep in each others' arms and ended up sleeping
until ten the next morning.  Gayle was still out when I awoke
and I watched her for a few minutes, her expressions seemed a
bit extreme even in sleep, although perhaps I'd just caught
her dreaming.  I eased out of bed and her eyes snapped open.
She looked confused for a moment, then saw me and her look of
wariness dissolved into a huge smile.

"Oh Marty!  I had this dream that last night didn't really
happen.  But it did, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it sure did."

She sat up slowly, the sheet falling down her torso after
catching briefly on her round breasts.  "Can we have breakfast
right here?"

That was the last thing I wanted.  "Uh, I don't know.  Why
don't we go to IHOP?  It's just a short drive.  You have your
car, don't you?  I don't get off campus much."

"Oh sure!  But, hey, I can come up and drive you around
whenever you want, you know.  It really wouldn't be any
trouble.  Now that we're seeing each other again."

I had to nip this in the bud.  "Gayle.  Wait.  I'm not ready
for that.  I mean, you know, it's great seeing you again, but
I really don't know if I'm ready just to go back to the way
things were.  You know?"

She seemed thunderstruck, and her eyes watered, but then she
blinked hard.  "Okay.  I thought -- but okay.  I mean,
whatever."  She turned around at the wall and took some deep
breaths.  I saw the muscles in her back tense, bulging
frighteningly.  "Do you want me to go, Marty?" she said,
haltingly.

There I was, on the precipice.  Say no and I have all the sex
I want, from a girl who adores me and has a body that I'd
fantasized about for years.  Say yes and after a big scene
perhaps she's gone, leaving me free to date the soft, mystical
Lisel, or whoever else I wanted, free from the complicated
emotional baggage Gayle was obviously carrying around.  Say no
and I have to explain Gayle to my friends, have a scene with
Lisel, justify dating a townie, condemn myself to be on the
fringe of my new Ivy League college, with an adoring but
unsophisticated Gayle tagging along with me to events.  What a
muddle.

"Maybe that's a good idea, Gayle."

I saw her tremble, and then, trying desperately to sound
normal, she said through tears, "Oh, all right Marty.   If you
think that's for the best."  She pulled her t-shirt and pants
on and ran from the room, carrying her underwear in a crumpled
ball in her big right hand.

10

I went through the rest of the years at Dartmouth without
hearing a word from Gayle.  Lisel and I were an item for
almost that whole time, breaking up and getting back together
at least half a dozen time, each of us sleeping with at least
ten other people in the brief intervals we were apart, then
endlessly dissecting the experience over beer, wine and
stronger things.  I'd wonder about Gayle every so often.
Sometimes I'd run my mouth along Lisel's soft, smooth arms,
wondering what she'd be like with a hard muscle there instead.
I slept with a member of the freshman women's crew team a few
times, and enjoyed the athletic hardness of her body against
mine, but she complained I was too rough with her and that I
should know the difference between making love and wrestling.
Of course I did, but why couldn't we do both, I wondered.
Then Lisel and I made up again and that was the end of the
fling with Carol.

Finally, the February before graduation, faced with the
prospect of either getting married or continuing the dance
through graduate school we broke up for good.

I felt wiser and poorer for the experience.  Dating Lisel
seemed to have given me a lifetime of experience in
relationships -- at least in how they can go wrong, get
righted and still not be right.  We did everything there was
to do sexually.  I knew her body better than I knew the house
I grew up in, and that knowledge seemed to translate pretty
well with other women I screwed in between Lisel.  But
ironically, just as  I had feared happening if I'd stayed with
Gayle, I ended up on the fringe of Dartmouth.  Too much energy
into my life with Lisel meant not enough for other activities,
except studies perhaps.  I graduated with honors and an Ivy
League degree, but Dartmouth hardly knew I had been there.

I went to business school next, and then got a job at a Wall
Street firm.  I liked being back in New York, although being
in a big city was a little disorienting after four years of
Hanover.  It took me awhile to get back into a social life,
particularly with the long hours I had to work.  But I was
reasonably successful, and soon with a growing income and a
good reputation I began to think it might be time to settle
down.  I found a likely enough girl, Laura Sloane.  She was
six years younger than me, working as an account executive at
a large advertising firm.  She would have been unattainable
when I was at Dartmouth -- tall, slender, with glowing blond
hair and high cheekbones -- but now with an income in the high
six figures and enjoying the one to three advantage that
straight man have over straight women in New York City, this
was the time to play my hand.  We dated awhile, spent the
summer at a house I rented in East Hampton, took a couple of
trips to the Caribbean and before I knew it, we'd made plans
to get married.

One weekend about two months before the wedding was scheduled,
I decided to drive out alone to the house I'd rented.  It was
past the season, of course, and my lease was up, but the owner
had agreed to let me have it for a few extra weeks during the
year, and Laura was visiting some college friend.  I loved the
way the roads were so much emptier in the early spring, and I
liked seeing the sleepy towns of eastern Long Island where I
had grown up, and to be honest, where I now rarely visited.
It was almost ten o'clock when I arrived, and I unlocked the
door and entered the empty house, quickly turning on the heat,
not bothering even to lock the door.  As I played with the
burner in the basement, the phone rang, so I ran upstairs.  It
must be Laura.

"Hello?"

"Oh Marty!  Marty!"

I knew that voice.

"Marty, it's me, Gayle!  I hope you don't mind."

"What a surprise, uh.  Why are you calling, and how did you
get this number?"

"Why, I had to call you, Marty.  Before it was too late."

"Too late?  Yeah, it is pretty late to call."

"No, I mean, you know, for your wedding."

How did she hear I was getting married?  "I'm not married yet,
Gayle."  I didn't understand.  Was she angling for an
invitation or something?

"You really hurt me Marty.  But I forgive you."

That knocked me off guard.  "Uh, that's nice of you.  Hey, it
was a very long time ago Gayle and I --

"Aren't you curious about what happened to me?"

This was really weird.  I wondered if I should just hang up.
"Uh, sure, Gayle.  Yeah, I never saw you around Hanover again,
after that last, uh, time.  But I don't understand how you --

"Uh, uh.  I made sure of that.  I was really hurt.  I almost
killed myself.  But I didn't.  I didn't want to bother you
though.  I kept out of your way.  But I watched you. I knew
where you were.  Almost all the time.  I knew the names of all
the girls you dated.  What they looked like.  What they wore.
I studied them."

"You mean, you followed me?"

"Uh huh.  I got very good at it.  And later, I took a course.
I'm almost like a professional detective, or spy.  I could be,
I bet, if I wanted to be.  I really don't understand you,
though.  Why did you keep going out with Lisel?  She wasn't
very pretty.  And she didn't have any muscle at all.  And
that's what you like.  I knew it.  So I think you were pretty
confused."

"There's more to life than muscle, Gayle.  Even if it turned
me on."  I heard her breathing hard.  "I mean, we all make
compromises.  And I'm pretty --

"Laura is pretty.  That's for sure, but I don't think you'd be
happy with her.  I had to tell you.  Did you know she's still
seeing her old boyfriend?  His name is Claude.  He's French,
about 40 years old.  He wanted to dump her after she told him
she was going to marry you, but I think she's still in love
with him.  She's there right now.  He's no great shakes.  He
lives off her, you know.  She goes to his place a lot when
you're traveling.  I think she's pretty strange, to be hanging
around him instead of you.  But they've been together since
she was in college, so I think he'll change his mind and go
back to her.  It's her parents, you know, who want her to
marry you, but she keeps calling him.  Leaves long messages on
his answering machine.  You want to hear them?  I have about
twenty.  I recorded them tapping her phone.  They're pretty
gross.  I guess you probably don't want to hear them."

What could I say?  My mouth was too dry to talk anyway.  I
wanted to crawl under the couch.

"Sorry Marty.  I didn't want you to get hurt.  I thought you
should know."

I didn't say anything but, "Yeah, thanks."  Then there was a
long pause.

"You shouldn't have pushed me away from you.  We would have
been really happy together, all these years.  We've wasted a
lot of time."

"We have our own lives."

"No we don't.  Uh, uh.  I've dedicated my life to you, just
like I said I would.  And you've gone your own way, but I
haven't ever let you get away.  Not for long anyhow.  I see
you every week, every day when I can manage it.  I can hear
your voice anytime I want to.  I have taps on your phones and
bugs everywhere.  I know your travel schedule.  I know what
you do on the internet.  Actually, that's what gave me hope.
You download those pictures of muscular women, so I just know
you still want me.  You just have a sort of block about it,
though, when it comes to real life."

"This is impossible.  How could you --

"Because I love you, Marty.  I did it all out of love.  I've
protected you, helped you.  You have no idea all the things
I've done for you.  I did them knowing that in the end you'd
thank me.  But I couldn't let you get married.  That would
have ruined everything, so I had to tell you."

I stood up.  "That's enough of that.  I don't want you in my
life."

"Oh no, Marty.  You do!  You just don't know it."

"This is bizarre, Gayle, really.  Look, thanks for the tip.
I'll, uh, have to look into it, but I really don't want to
talk to you about this.  I'm kind of hungry and --

She let out a kind of sigh.  "Oh, come on, Marty.  Please can
we talk some more?  I really miss talking to you."

This was ridiculous.  But maybe if I humored her she'd leave
me alone.  I tried to be a little more conversational.  "Well,
O.K.  Just a little.  So, uh, when did you leave New
Hampshire?"

"Oh, before you did.  My Mom and Dad both died the year after
I last saw you.  They were in a car crash together on their
way to a dinner date -- I had been trying to get them to live
together again, so I guess it was partly my fault."

"That's terrible.  I'm really sorry, Gayle.  But you can't
really think take the blame for that!"

"Oh Marty, that's nice of you to say that!  But I did feel
guilty, especially because of the life insurance.  Grandad,
Daddy's father, was crazy about insurance.  He made both of
them take out $5 million policies with the three of us kids as
beneficiaries.  We each got over $3 million.  My brother Bob
invested it for me and he's done really well.  So I don't have
to worry about money.  I just write checks when I want things.
Not that I spend a lot, except on stuff that relates to you,
like following you, buying spy stuff, training -- that sort of
thing.  Bob thinks I'm a little nutty, but he's a good
brother, really."

"That's incredible."

"Yeah.  Things sorta worked out okay.  Except for us, Marty.
I mean, you're the one thing in my life I've really, really
wanted, and I haven't been able to talk to you for almost ten
years!  Did you ever see the movie Random Harvest?  It's
really old, with Greer Garson and Ronald Colman.  I must have
seen it a hundred times.  He's a wealthy man who fights in a
war and gets amnesia so that he can't even remember his name
or his life.  Greer Garson is a nurse in an army hospital who
takes care of him.  He falls in love with her.  They get
married, live in this cute little house, and then he regains
his memory, forgets about her completely and goes back to his
old life as a big businessman.  Years pass, just like with us!
He never gets married, and then he's finally going to marry a
young girl, and then you find out that all these years, Greer
Garson has been with him, as his secretary.  She never let him
out of her sight even though he never knew it.  And she never
stopped loving him.  And then one day something shocks him a
little and his other memory starts coming back and he goes
back to their little house, and she had kept it just the way
it had been, so that it would be there for him when he
remembered.  And he sees the house, and she's followed him and
calls him by the name she gave him when he'd lost his memory.
And suddenly he realizes who she is and who he was and
remembers how much he loves her.  I cry every time I see it.
It's just like you and me.  It's like, you've forgotten how
much you loved me but I haven't, and I'll take care of things
until you remember again."

I listened almost in disbelief.  "Gayle, that's a whole
different thing.  I don't have amnesia.  I'm not sick.  I've
just moved on in my life.  That's all.  I'm not going to
suddenly remember I love you.  We had a great summer together,
but that was years and years ago.  I hate to say it, but this
sounds more like Fatal Attraction than your Random Harvest
movie."

"Oh yeah!  Fatal Attraction.  With Glenn Close!  She really
loved him, you know, a lot more than the woman he was married
to.  I mean, you could tell.  It was so sad that they didn't
get back together again.  I cried at the end of that movie
too.  It's so weird.  Nobody I talk to really understands that
movie.  They all sympathize with Michael Douglas.  But except
for the rabbit, I can totally get into Glenn Close's feelings.
She shouldn't have killed the rabbit.  That was wrong, but you
know, these things happen sometimes when you're trying to do
the right thing."

My heart started beating more quickly.  She wasn't serious,
was she?  Nobody could identify with the Glenn Close
character.  She was totally off her rocker.  Which probably
meant that Gayle was off her rocker too.  I had to end this.
But I was still a little curious about one thing.

"Gayle, I just don't understand how you know so much about me.
How come I didn't notice you were following me?"

"Ha!  I learned to be very sneaky.  I had a million disguises.
And you always had other things on your mind.  You're just not
very observant, Marty.  That's not one of your strong points,
you know, even though I know you're very, very smart.  I think
a lot of smart people must be like that.  They have really
deep thoughts but they don't see things right in front of
them.  I think that gives the rest of us a fighting chance."

I was getting tired of her chatter.  Damn it was annoying.  I
stood up.  "Enough of this, Gayle.  I'm hungry.  I'm tired.
I've had a long week.  I came out here for some relaxation, to
take a break.  I'm not going to spend it sitting around in a
stupid basement, playing these games with you on the
telephone."

"Marty, you're upset.  Don't --

"Goodbye, Gayle.  Don't call back, ok?"

I hung up.

Dammit!  I should have known.  I strode over to the staircase
and kicked it, then stomped upstairs.  I'd lost my appetite.
I wanted to get out in the car and drive back to New York,
then I realized how tired I was.  No.  Being out here, alone,
was better.  The phone rang.  I let it go.  It rang twenty
times twenty five.  I picked it up and slammed it down again.
Ten seconds later it started again.  I ripped the cord out of
the wall.  I could still hear it ringing in another part of
the house.  Well, let it.

I stripped down, showered, and then warmed the dinner I'd
picked up on the way out.  That was better.  Damn that Laura
and her blond hair.  Fuck France and anyone named Claude.  I'd
always thought Laura was a little reserved, but I put it down
to her upbringing.  The idea that she was in fact obsessed
with a grubby freeloader while using me as some kind of sap to
her parents was horrible.  I must have stared at the walls for
ten minutes, before I grabbed the nearest thing -- a vase --
and threw it against a wall, smashing it.  The explosion made
me even jumpier.  I turned on the television, but I was too
restless to watch anything.  Basketball was so pointless in
February.  I decided to go to bed.

As I neared my room, I heard a faint sound from my beeper,
which was underneath my clothes.  Who would want me at this
hour on a Friday?  The number was my voice mail box at work,
so I checked it and found a message from the managing
director's secretary telling me that a long-awaited Asian deal
with Integrated Ionics was about to come to life, and that I
needed to get myself to Singapore immediately so that I would
be on hand for a Monday morning meeting.  She said the tickets
would be waiting for me at Kennedy Airport for an eight
o'clock flight on Saturday.  Well, so much for the weekend.
At least that would get me out of Laura's life.  I decided to
nap for a couple of hours and then head for the airport.

Flying on Singapore Airlines is an experience.  It's the most
luxurious airline in the world, and the flight attendants are
so beautiful and solicitous you would think that you had
entered another universe, especially flying first class.  The
jet powered across the United States and then on across the
Pacific, and while I lay down on my $9,000 seat I had the
sense of escaping all of problems and felt enormous gratitude
that I would likely be so buried in work for the next three
months that by the time I returned, everything would sort
itself out.

After the quick trip through customs, I found the limo driver
holding up a card with my name along with the special code
word our firm used, and I settled into the car for the trip to
the hotel.  It was already late Sunday afternoon, so I wanted
to check in quickly, go for a walk to stretch my legs, and
read through the stacks of papers that undoubtedly were
waiting for me there.

I got a little concerned when I noticed the limo seemed to be
taking me out of the city.  I rapped on the partition, but the
driver ignored me.  Now I was starting to panic.  Was I being
kidnaped?  I always worried about that, even with the code
words the authorized drivers always used.  We were moving too
quickly for me to jump out, so I had no choice but to stay in
the back.

We roared through a border point, the driver just waving at
the guard, and after a two hour ride through a thick jungle,
some tiny villages, we arrived at a large compound, surrounded
by a gate that the driver opened from within the car.  The
driver carried my bag upstairs, and either ignored my
questions, or was unable to understand my English, and left.
From my window I watched him drive away.  Then the phone rang.

"Hi Marty.  Did you have a nice trip?"

"Gayle!!  What the -- how did you --

"Oh Marty.  Please don't be mad.  I know you're very upset,
but it's for your own good."

"For my -- where the fuck am I?"

"You're in Malaysia, just sixty miles from Singapore.  It used
to be a conference center for some company my brother bought
for me, but it went bust.  We got it when he settled a
lawsuit, so it wasn't all bad."

"Why are you doing this?  I'll have you arrested."

"Oh, no Marty.  Not out there.  The police in this part of
Malaysia aren't like in America, and they like my family a
lot.  We give them a lot of money."

"Yeah, well when I get back, I'm going to find some real
police."

"Oh don't be like that.  I know you're mad.  But I thought
about this really carefully.  I know how to make you happy."

"I'm not happy at all, Gayle.  I'm very angry in fact."

"I know that.  I knew you wouldn't like this at first.  Well,
I can't discuss it with you.  I've just gone ahead and done
it.  You're where I wanted you to be now, safe."

"I don't want to be safe.  I want to go back to New York."

"Oh you can't.  They'd just put you away now!"  She chuckled.
"I've really done it!

"What are you talking about?"

She ignored my question.  "Now, until you're ready for me,
you'll be with someone who I know you will really like.  She
takes a little getting used to, but she's a very special
person.   And physically, she's much more to your taste.
You'll like her too, but please don't get too attached to her,
ok?"

I didn't say anything.

"I know you'll want to stay with me, but you're so mixed up.
You just need to settle down a little, so I can't let you
leave until you're ready.  Bye, Marty.  Have fun."

"Gayle.  Gayle!!"  It was no use.  She'd hung up.  I picked up
the phone again and tried to call my office.  Of course, it
wouldn't let me dial outgoing calls.  My cellular phone didn't
work either.  I sat on the bed.

Someone knocked.  I ignored it.  They knocked again.  A
pleasant female voice, with an Asian accent asked, "May I come
in?"

"You may as well."

"Thank you."  She opened the door.  "I am Maldarni.  Is there
anything I can bring you?"

I stared at her.  She was tall and breathtakingly beautiful.
"How about a telephone?"

"I'm sorry.  Miss Gayle will not allow you a phone for three
days.  May I bring you dinner?  Give a massage?  A movie?   We
have all the latest.  Even pornography if you like.  Miss
Gayle says you may also like a video of Women's Strength
Extravaganza."  She muffled a laugh.

I glared at her.  "No thanks."  I turned around.

"I will bring you dinner then.  Maybe later you will like a
movie."  She left and closed the door behind her.

Three days!  What was so special about three days?  Well, if
it was only going to be three days, maybe I should enjoy
myself.  Maybe this was just Gayle's way of making sure I had
a vacation, an easy way to settle down after the shock she
gave me.  I could take care of the kidnapping thing later.

I changed my clothes and leafed through my work papers, almost
out of habit, then realized how stupid that was.  There was no
deal.  What should I do?  Just then, Maldarni returned with a
fragrant tray of dinner, along with a video tape, and left
discreetly.  I ignored the tape and turned on the TV while I
ate, but there was nothing on but an Asian version of MTV and
American shows dubbed into Malay.  With nothing else to do I
plugged in the tape.  It was, of course, the Women's Strength
Extravaganza.  I felt a bit embarrassed watching it, but it
was a great tape.  Unfortunately, by the time it was finished,
I felt more than a little restless.  I checked the lock on the
door of the room, then unlocked it again and put my tray
outside, figuring I would eliminate any reason for anyone to
enter.  I put the tape back in and fast forwarded to the best
part -- the chin-ups -- and jerked off to the site of these
women powerfully pumping themselves up and down like pistons.
Now I was fully relaxed and I went right to sleep.

I woke up with a start.  Someone had jumped on top of me.  I
tried to turn over to get my bearings, but my arms were held
fast.  I smelled a feminine fragrance and felt long hair
brushing against me.

"Who is this?  What the fuck are you doing?"

The light went on .  It was Marldarni.  "Hee-hee.  Aren't you
a cute one?"  I tried to sit up, but she had wrapped her legs
around mine, and I couldn't bend.  "Silly man.  You like
strong women.  You jerked off to the movie.  I watched you.
Why do you try to resist me?  You should like me very much."

"You what?!!"

"I watched you on the spy camera.  You made funny faces when
you came.  I laughed."

"You bitch!"  I strained against her.

"Oooh, you very mad.  Very angry.  Then try harder to get
away!  I like this.  This is fun for me.  You don't think
Asian girls are so strong, do you?"  She let her robe open,
revealing her upper torso and showing her small, dark breasts
and broad shoulders.  "But I am stronger than you."

I struggled, but she had me in an expert hold.  "You are not.
You caught me by surprise.  What are you trying to do,
anyway?"

"I am just playing.  Tee-hee, you are getting very hard.  You
like girls who can handle you like this?  Maybe I should play
rougher?"  She pressed her knees together, squeezing my
stomach.  It was getting painful, and harder to breath.  She
started rubbing her pubis against my pubic bone  "Yes, this is
very nice.  You have a nice smell."

"What are you doing?  Are you going to rape me or something?
Is this what Gayle thinks I like?"

"Oh no.  Gayle has her own plans, I'm sure, but I do what I
like.  I do not want your sperm.  Ooooh.  I am happy doing
this."  She moved faster against me.  "I am not hurting you
too much I hope?"  She let go of one of my arms to reach
behind to touch my penis.  "Oooh, so very hard.  Sorry, but
it's not his day, tee-hee. You can jerk off to movie.  Ooooh!
Almost there!  Aaaahhh, I

I calmly took the arm she had freed and pushed it into her
chest, knocking her further back on me, but she still gripped
me tightly with her knees and did not fall off.  She took my
hand and started pushing me back down.  Her robe slipped off
her shoulder, revealing her lithe muscular arm, and firm
triceps.  "You think you can fight me?  You are wrong Mr.
Marty.  I am too strong for you."  She gripped my hand
tightly, painfully grinding my knuckles, and pushed me back
down flat on the bed.  "I work out here every day," she
grunted, resuming her mashing of my pubic bone more
insistently now.  "I lift weights, do martial arts, spar in
gym.  I am a 'splendid specimen', says my trainer.  Mmmm, yes.
I will show you who is boss.  You are a man, but you are not
even as strong as me.  Even I can beat you, and I am only the
maid!  Ahhhh!  YES!"  She slumped down on me, relaxed.  "Tee-
hee-hee.  And still you are hard!  I didn't let you come.  You
like an Asian girl who can beat you and talk mean to you,
while taking her own pleasure."  She looked at me curiously.
"But why do you like that?  Is this something all Americans
like?  Do you think I can bring Americans here and make money
like this?"

I ignored her questions.  "Does Gayle know about this?"

She rolled off the bed and closed her robe.  "What are you
going to do, Mr. Marty, report me?  You going to run to Miss
Gayle to protect you from me?  Ha-ha-ha-ha!  Big shot American
man afraid of Asian maid!  You always run to girls for help?"

My face grew red.  It would be pretty embarrassing.

"You blushing.  You are so red!  We have fun with you!  Wait
until you meet Jennifer.  Ha-ha!  You get big surprise from
Miss Gayle's friend!"  She walked out the door and I heard it
latch.  I was locked in, from the outside.  I pushed at the
door and banged it, but there was no answer.  I went back to
my bed and went to sleep, too upset even to finish myself off.

I woke up and it was already light.  I had no idea what time
it was.  I reached for my watch, then noticed Maldarni was in
my room, eating.  She was dressed in a light green short-
sleeved blouse and a yellow skirt, the not-so-gentle curves of
her muscular arms and legs plainly evident.

"You were sleeping so I am eating your lunch."  She smiled at
me, daring me.  I got up and walked toward her and reached for
a piece of fruit.  She slapped my hand, then gave me a toothy
smile.  "You hungry?  Complain to the boss.  I need your food.
I had a tough workout this morning, while you just sleep.
See, I have muscles!"  She flexed her biceps, showing off
solid baseball-sized mounds.  "Big muscles, see?"  I couldn't
help looking at them.  "Ha-ha.  You are so obvious!" she
laughed, pointing at the erection that had immediately sprung
through my jockeys. I was so befuddled that I hadn't realized
I was still undressed.  "It's good for a girl to be strong.
Here I am, with a half-dressed man whose ding-dong wants to
rape me, but I am not afraid of you.  Instead, you should be
afraid of me!"

"I am not afraid of you."

"Should be!  You should be."  She put her hand in a bowl of
pudding on the tray and quickly reached up and smeared it all
over my chest.  "Ha-ha-ha.  What are you going to do?  You
going to beat me up?"  She scooped some more and threw it at
my face.  "You going to fight me?  Or you like chocolate so
much that you just lick it up?"

My eyes flashed with anger.  "Look you, cut it out!"

"Or what?  Or what?  What you going to do to me?  Eh?"  She
took the rest of the bowl and threw it all at me.  "You clean
it up now.  You clean the floor.  You big shot, you be the
maid."

"You're nuts.  I'm not cleaning up this fucking room!"

"Bad language!  Bad boy!"  She jumped up.  "You listen to me!
You clean it up!"

"Fuck you!"

She was as tall as I was, and she took me by the shoulders and
started pulling me down.  "Lick it up!  Lick it up!"  I
couldn't believe how strong she was.  I couldn't stand
upright.  She was bending me right down to the floor, pushing
my face into the mess and rubbing my nose into it.  I grabbed
at her legs to pull her down, but they were immovable, like
iron.  I was suffocating, and the carpet fibers were rubbing
my nose raw, so suddenly I switched gears and instead of
pulling away, I charged forward, catching her by surprise.
She went down hard, and slammed her head against the metal
frame of my bed.  I sprang up, ready to defend myself, but she
didn't move. She was out cold.

"Marldarni!  Maldarni" I said.

I bent closer.  She wasn't just unconscious.  In fact, she
wasn't breathing.  Shit!  I looked around.  She had left the
door open, and I looked outside.  No one was there.  I slipped
out, tip-toeing through the corridor, and before I knew it, I
was back outside, somewhere in the back of the building.  Now
I was really lost.  I went back inside, looking for keys, a
map, anything.  But there was nothing in the house other than
a well-stocked kitchen and a TV.  I went back outside and
walked toward the back of the property, away from the road,
uncertain where to go.  I heard the birds chirping, but no
sounds of traffic anywhere.  I could be fifty miles inside the
jungle for all I knew. I started running, then saw a rough
dirt track and decided to follow it.  I slowed my pace to a
comfortable jog, figuring I could keep it up for at least four
miles, my usual morning run, and by then I would be out of the
immediate area of the compound.  The first mile was easy, then
I started perspiring heavily.  It was a lot hotter and more
humid than Central Park at six a.m.  I slowed down a bit, then
I heard footsteps behind me, rapidly gaining on me.  I tried
sprinting a bit and looked to see where I could hide, but I'd
never make it in the rough jungle on the sides of the road.  I
could only hope that --

"Hey!  Hey!  Are you Marty?"

I whirled around.  It was a girl, maybe sixteen or so, in
shorts and a running halter top.  She wasn't even breathing
hard, but she had a sheen of perspiration, like me.  She was
very cute, sort of like Sandy in "L.A. Story," but with
biceps.  Her face had nice features, and even without make-up
her coloring was ravishing, with deep green eyes, blond hair
and a red glow from her exercise.  But she seemed unconscious
of her appeal.  She wiped her brow carelessly.

"Yeah!  You're the guy!  What are you doing out here?
Maldarni is such a flake, letting you go!  I told Gayle, but
she never listens to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

"You can't fool me. I saw your picture on the TV show.  You're
Marty Barnett, Gayle's friend, and you're in trouble!"

"What!  I didn't – who are you and what do YOU know?"

"I'm Jennifer, and I know a lot.  I really do.  And YOU better
come back with me."

What did this kid know?  I stared at her, and did a double-
take when I realized quickly how incredibly muscular she was,
much more so than Maldarni.  Her arms were thick to begin
with, but grapefruit sized biceps hung on her arm loosely, as
on a tree, and she wasn't even flexing.  Her waist was so
small it looked it could never support so massive an upper
body, but it was packed with muscle.  Then I looked down at
her legs and they were so thick they seemed to belong to
another species.  And even after running a lot faster than I
had she was already breathing perfectly evenly while I was
still gasping for air.

"Where did you think you were going anyway?  We're miles from
any city.  You can't leave like that."

"I'm getting out of here."

"No you're not."  She put her hand on my arm and pulled me
toward her, then caught me with one arm around my waist.
"You're supposed to be in our camp."

I didn't like being bullied by her, but on the other hand, was
I really going to run away from a teenage girl who looked like
a Sarah Jessica Parker who'd just ingested Arnold
Schwarzenegger?  I decided to be pragmatic.  "Would you tell
me what's going on?"

She shrugged.  "O.K.  On the way back.  Are you coming, or do
I have to drag you?  I can, you know.  All the way.  I'm very
strong."

"I know.  I can see that.  I'm coming." We started walking,
not running, luckily for me.

"You know, you don't have to pretend with me.  I know all
about it."

"About what?"

She shook her head.  "Gayle told me about you.  But it's not
like everyone else doesn't know you're on the run."

"On the run?  From what?"

"From the F.B.I.; because of the trading.   They're looking
for you everywhere.  You think you got away with it, although
I don't know how you think you could get so much money and
nobody would know about it.  It seems obvious to me.  You're
lucky you have Gayle to take care of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You just think I'm too young.  But I saw it on CNN, and I'm
going to watch it again.  I got it on tape, like Gayle asked
me.  Something about putting telephone calls, or puts and
calls on telephone accounts with dummies in the Caribbean."

"Are you saying that they're looking at me for securities
fraud?"

"Yes."  She looked a little nervous.  "I think so.  What does
that mean?"

"It means they think I traded on inside information."

"That's it.  And they said breach of trust. What does that
mean?"

"It means -- never mind.  But it's not true."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because Gayle tricked me into coming here."

She looked at me blankly.  She plainly didn't believe me.
"Well, that's between you and her.  But you can't go home.
They said you'd be arrested as soon as you got off the plane.
That's why you're here," she finished, with a satisfied shake
of her head.  "And here we are."  She pulled me inside her
bungalow and shut the door.

"I want to talk to Gayle."

"She'll be around.  She always visits."

I looked around.  The hut seemed big enough only for one,
especially with all the weight equipment and all kinds of
books, kids books, religious books, teen magazines, a big
cross on the door, where Jennifer hung her bras.  Very
strange.  "So you see her a lot?"

"Yeah. She's great.  Really nice.  Always helping people.  She
helped me get away too, from bad people.  And she knows a lot
about training."  She shuddered a little and looked me up and
down and suddenly I realized her expression had changed and
she was walking toward me, her ass wiggling like she meant
business.  She leaned against the wall and ran her finger down
my chest.

"I heard you were cute, but I didn't think you'd be THIS
cute!"

"Excuse me?"  Jennifer's whole bearing was different.

She put her hand down inside the front of my shirt and brushed
my nipples ever so lightly with her fingers.  "Kind of thin,
but very nice."

"Jennifer!  I"

"I'm not Jennifer.  I'm Jocelyn!"

"Jocelyn?  But –

"Don't be upset.  I'm sure this Jennifer will come back.  But
since I'm here right now, why don't we just spend a little
time together?"  She took her hand out of my shirt slowly and
ran it down the front of my body, again,, so delicately I
could hardly feel it, yet she seemed to set off sparks all the
way down my torso.  She stopped at my groin.  "Oh it's so big
and hard.  Can't I take him out to play?"  I stared at her in
disbelief.  Suddenly, level-headed jockette Jennifer had
turned into a little sexpot.  "You're not shy, are you?  It
would be such a shame if you were too shy to, you know."

"No, no I'm not shy.  I'm just a little ... surprised.  And
you're very young, you know to –

"I'm sixteen!  And I can take care of myself."  She smiled.
"And I can take care of you too!"  She put her hands on my
hips and with one swift movement lifted me into the air.  I'd
never felt such strength, and I looked down to see her biceps
flexed even larger than I had imagined they could when I first
saw Jennifer.  I heard myself moan and couldn't help but reach
down to touch those soaring balls of muscle.

"Ha ha!  Oh, you like them!  Aren't they just the biggest!
Come down here, so I can kiss you!"  She lowered me back to
the floor and I bent down to kiss her.  She tasted like honey
and I couldn't help myself.  I ran my fingers around her curvy
but so hard body, feeling as though I was dissolving in desire
for her.  "Yes!  Yes!  It feels so good for you to want me.
More, more, touch me more."

I couldn't resist.  I put my arms around her hard body and
squeezed her as tightly as I could.  She just laughed and put
her arms around me, holding me much more gently.  I felt her
firm bottom, her rock-hard legs and wondered just how far I
could go with her.  Then suddenly I felt her stiffen, and I
realized I must have crossed a line somewhere.  I pulled back
to see what bothered her.

Her smile had changed; it was a little twisted.  "Hello theah.
You must be Marty. Ah don't think we've been properly
introduced."  Her voice was different, lower.  And that
accent!

"Yes we – Jocelyn, what are you –

"Ah'm not Jocelyn or Jennifer.  Ah'm Jezebel.  Jennifer and
Jodi do the hard work around here. Jocelyn a sweet thang.  And
Ah'm the one who plays rough!  And Ah'm going to play with
YOU!"

"Wait, hey --

She pulled my head down and planted her lips on it while
pushing her pubis into mine, grinding against me painfully.  I
tried to push away but she only gripped me tighter, and when I
didn't stop, she jabbed her heel into my toes.  I yelled.

"Oh, did Ah hurt you?  You poah li'l boy!"  She rubbed her
hand against my shoulder, then picked me up by the belt and
shoved me hard against the wall.  "Jennifer's a very nice
girl.  Nice to you, nice to Gayle, nice to everybody.  She's
even nice to me, even though she doesn't know me.  She works
so hard to make me very, very strong.  And Jodi, she's a very
disciplined girl, and just loves the Lohd.  She does just what
He tells her to do, and He likes her strong, and that makes me
strong too."  She scowled.  "But Ah'm not nice.  Not at all.
But that's no matter.  I got these."  She flexed her right arm
and my heart pounded.  Out popped the largest biceps I'd ever
seen or imagined, a dark blue vein ran across the top and as
she kept tensing it beat, like a heart, growing larger and
larger with each beat.  "And you know, Martin, Ah have another
one just like it.  And you know somethin' else, Martin honey,
if you're not nice, it's good to be very, very strong.  'Cause
then you can still have everythin' you want. "

Oh great, another crazy person!  Jennifer must have some kind
of split personality.  "Wh-what do you want?"

"I lahk to play . . . rough!"  With that, she pulled me down
and threw me across the room, then ran after me and tackled me
on the floor.  I landed hard and tried to get away from her,
but she held my arm behind my back, twisting it higher and
higher.

It was hopeless fighting her.  She had at least twice my
strength, and she was in perfect condition.  "All right!  All
right!  You've got me.  I'll do whatever you want!  Please!
You're hurting me.  Stop already!"

"Silly boy.  Ah don't want to stop.  This is what Ah want to
do."  She let her body fall hard against me and I groaned.
"Ah'm only sixteen years old, but Ah'm strong enough to kill
you if Ah wanted."  She got up and turned me over.  "Ha, you'd
just let me do anything now, won't you?  You are so scared of
me already you won't dare faht back.  Because you don't have
muscles lahk Ah do.  You're just too weak."  She put her hand
on my crotch and felt me up.  "So these are the family jewels?
Shall Ah take a closer look?  You can't even protect yoah li'l
manhood, can you?"  She tore open my pants, breaking the
button and the zipper, and pulled down my shorts.  "Lookee
heah!  Isn't that a cute little hard on, now?  Isn't it?"  She
put her hand on my balls.  "One squeeze and it's all over,
right Marty?"

"J-Jennifer, I mean, Jezebel, please!  I –

"That's right.  Beg, you weak little piece of shit.  You WISH
you were as strong as me, don't you?  You WISH you had real
muscles, that you had a body that could DO things, instead of
just carrying a brain and a mouth around.  DON'T YOU?"

I nodded.

"Now –

She shuddered and looked at me and down at my open pants.  Her
face lit up in horror.  "Aagh!  What are you doing to me?
Help!  Help!!"

"I'm not doing anything to you Jezebel.  You're the one who –

"Why are you calling me Jezebel?  My name is Jill, and you're
trying to rape me!  Help!"

She looked around, panicked, and then started beating on me
with her fists.  Her blows were uncoordinated, but with her
immense strength they still hurt. I tried to protect myself
and then rolled away.  She didn't follow me, content to see me
on the other side of the room.

"You, you stay away from me."

"I won't move an inch."  I bent down to pick up my pants,
although I couldn't button them because of Jezebel's
destructiveness.  "O.K.?"  She nodded, cowering in the other
side of the room by the door.  "Jill, I wasn't attacking you.
I was – do you know how you got here?"  She shook her head.
"Do you know where you are?"

"Uh-huh.  This is Gayle's place.  She takes care of me.  She
comes over and plays with me a lot.  Sometimes she lets me
wear her make-up, and we talk about boys and clothes.  She's
going to take me shopping in Singapore soon."

"Jill, how old are you?"

"I'm eleven.  I'll be twelve in July.  You shouldn't have done
that.  You shouldn't be undressed with me here.  You should
leave.  Right now."  Her lips were quivering.  She was clearly
frightened of me, even though she was strong enough to break
me in two.  It was strange.  With her frightened, innocent
face, she almost looked like she was eleven.  Even with her
breasts and bulging muscles, she stood crooked and swung her
arms around absently.  Didn't she know about what a body she
had?  I felt my dick start to stiffen and actually felt guilty
about it, as if I really were a child molester.

"Jill, I will leave.  I don't mean you any harm, really.  I'm
a friend of Gayle's, and I'll go look for her now.  O.K.?"
She nodded.  I walked slowly toward the door.  She looked
frightened again.  "I'm not going to hurt you.  I promise."

She nodded and then smiled at me.  I relaxed.  What a
nuthouse, but I was almost out.  Her eyes flickered and then I
saw her lips curl and her hand move to the door.

"How sweet!  You sounded so gentle and reassuring.  Spending a
little time with the children, Martin?  Jill is such a nice
little girl, but the poah thang just doesn't even know her own
strength.  If she did, she might have given you the spanking
of yoah life!"

"Jezebel!"

"Yes, honey!  It's me!  Ah was gone for a minute, but I came
back just as soon as Ah could.  Did you miss me?"  She took my
hand and yanked me against her again, squeezing my ass so hard
my eyes started to water.  "Oooh, Ah bet that hurt!  Am Ah too
rough with you?"  She looked up at me, batting her pretty
eyes.  Or were they Jennifer's eyes.  "Yes, Ah know Ah am.
You poah li'l thang, with those hahmless li'l ol' muscles of
yoahs.  They just aren't STR-RONG enough to protect you from
this li'l girl, now are they?  You just at mah mercy, and Ah
don't haive anuh," she taunted, her accent getting even
stronger, as she shoved her hand against my adam's apple and
pushed me against the wall.  "C'mon.  Ah do want to see you
trah."

I tried to swallow, but I couldn't even breathe.  I put my
hand on hers, then two hands, but I couldn't remove her hand
from my throat.  She started squeezing more and I lost
consciousness, passing out on the floor.

I don't know how long I was out.  My body felt stiff, or maybe
Jezebel hit me a few more times before getting bored.  I had
to get away from her.  I heard clanking sounds and looked up.
There was Jennifer, working out on a weight machine.  I stood
up gingerly, slowly, so as not to attract attention, but she
noticed me right away.

"Are you so drunk that you sleep like the dead?  Disgusting!
It isn't right."

She had a very intense look on her face.  Her form was perfect
as she hammered out endless repetitions of her double biceps
curls with her upper body perfectly straight, her stomach
muscles flat and tense, and her biceps popping with each curl.
I couldn't believe the muscles on this girl.  I could feel
myself getting harder and harder.  I felt I would burst
through my pants.

"I don't like your staring at me either.  I can see what
you're doing.  It's indecent."

"Jennifer.  Listen, you have a problem, don't you?  Does Gayle
–

She put the weights down and turned to face me, hands on her
hips.  "Listen, you.  I'm not Jennifer.  I'm Jodi. I don't
like strange men in my house ogling me.  Neither does the
Lord.  And I will thank you not to have the presumption to
talk to me about my so-called problems.  I "

"O.K., O.K., I'll go."

"I'm not finished with you!  I want to know how you got in,
and what you expected to do here."

"Listen, it was Jezebel –

"The man always blames it on a woman named Jezebel.  Well I
have never seen her.  Only the evil ones do.  It must be a
story the devil passes out, just like in the bible.  A perfect
name for her too."

"You don't know.  Why is Jezebel the only one who knows about
the others?"

"You are talking nonsense.  The sign of the devil for sure."

"You don't understand."

"The truth is simple.  It is evil that masks itself in the
sounds of Babel, incomprehensible gibberish, such as you
speak."  She put her weights down and turned to me.  "There is
only one thing to do for you.  You must be taught.  As I was
taught."  She raised her hands high, her pumped biceps huge
and glowing with the sheen of her perspiration.  "Jesus, you
have given me great human strength.  Let your power flow
through me, so that I may be the vessel for your infinite
strength, and for your infinite love, and let me do your
will."

I didn't like the sound of this prayer.  I ran for the door,
but she had locked it.

"You cannot run from me, fiend.  The Lord is everywhere, and
the dominion of the evil one folds ever smaller in His
presence."

There was no place to run in that small room, and I felt her
iron hands on my shoulders and waist.  She lifted me and
deposited me on her knee.  Her right hand held me down, the
power of her arm pressing me down so that her leg cut hard
into my stomach.

"Witness the miracle!  I am just a girl, but I have the
strength of ten of you.  My love for the Lord multiplies my
strength. He endows me with the power to serve him and to
punish you for your wretched sins, your impure thoughts!"

With that she started beating me.  I have never known such
pain.  With each loud slap against my ass, I screamed.  Her
hand seemed to press right through me, the shock wave of the
contact shook my whole body and pain spread up my back into my
shoulders and down my legs to my feet.  After just five of her
blows, I burst into tears.  My whole body shook with sobbing.

"Yes, Jesus! Yes!  Yes!  He serves the darker power, but he is
not immune to your judgment.  He feels your wrath.  Let him
feel your power radiate through his pitiful body.  Let him
know his weakness against Our strength.  Then he will become
like a child, as You would have us all."

She hit me twice more, and I must have lost consciousness yet
again.

When I awoke, I was lying on a bed, my face turned slightly.
I tried to move, but my entire lower body was still wracked
with pain.  I felt a cool wetness on my face.  It was that
girl, but which one of them I had no idea.  Whoever she was
gently patted my face with a cool washcloth.

"You're coming around.  Thank goodness!  I thought you were
dead!"

There was no pretending I was still out.  "Who are you?" I
asked cautiously.

"Jennifer, of course."  I turned my head slightly.  She was
looking at me with a mixture of pity and confusion.  "What
happened to you?"

"You don't know?  You did this to me."

"I did not!"

"Jennifer.  You are a sick girl.  I'm no psychiatrist, but you
have some kind of split personality.  It's like there's
different people inside you.  One of them, Jodi, beat me
horribly, and another, calling herself Jezebel, would have if
I hadn't passed out."

Jennifer shook her head rapidly.  "No.  You're lying.  I
wouldn't do that.  Never.  I would never hurt anyone."

"I believe you.  But you aren't always in control of yourself.
It's not your fault.  You need help."

She threw the washcloth down and stood up.  "No!  I'm a
healthy girl.  Perfectly healthy."

"Jennifer, please don't get upset.  I’m not angry.  I want to
help you."

"You want to put me on drugs again, don't you?  Tie me up.
Like before.  But I don't need that anymore.  I'd just get fat
and weak again.  But I'm fine.  I just black out every so
often, that's all.  Then I'm back again, and I'm fine.  I
don't even get hurt.  I'm extremely healthy.  Healthier than
you."  She started pacing back and forth in the small room,
muttering.  "It's like before.  He doesn't understand.  I have
to keep working.  Hard work.  That's what's good.  Hard work."
She went back to her weights and started lifting furiously.
"This is good.  This is right.  Yes.  Yes."

I sat up, aching.  "Jennifer, listen to me.  That doesn't
help.  It doesn't solve anything.  I’m not saying you have to
be on drugs, but it's just a distraction."

"You're trying to make me weak.  I won't listen to you.  I
won't!"

I watched her, compulsively working her body, like a machine.
She wouldn't hurt me, I was sure.  But with each lift, I
imagined Jezebel and Jodi, already bursting with power,
getting stronger still.  And sooner or later they would return
to punish me or to torture me.  It was all the same.  It was a
nightmare.  Why had Gayle put me here?  What kind of crazy
plan did she have?

I stood up and walked slowly toward the door, the feeling
starting to come back to my legs.  I'd be sore for a couple of
days at least.

"Jennifer, I don't want to upset you.  Maybe I should just
go."

"No!  You can't.  You're supposed to stay with me."  She put
the weight down and seemed to make a great effort.  "I'm not
behaving right.  I'm sorry.  It's just -- I'm supposed to make
you feel at home.  I'm supposed to help you."

"It's all right.  But I think it's better if I don't stay
here."

"No!  That's not what we're supposed to

"What is supposed to happen here?"

Jennifer sniffed and started to cry.  "If I could only stay
awake long enough.  But I keep having these blackouts.  It
scares me!  I don't know what happens.  Gayle says 'never
mind,' but I did hurt you.  It had to be me.  I -- I'm so
sorry!  I should kill myself."

"No!  No!  Don't do that!"

"I'm supposed to make you remember how much you like muscles
on women, because, well, because I do have very big muscles,
you see.  And all I do here is work out.  I get bigger and
harder.  It makes me happy, you know.  It's one thing I can
control.  Because I WON'T go back to the hospital.  I HATED it
there, and Gayle lets me stay here and do what I want.  But I
don't know what happens when I'm not in control."  What could
I do?  I went over to her and put my arms around her and she
cried on my shoulder.  This immensely muscular teenage girl
was sobbing on my shoulder, and in all my pain, in all my fear
that in an instant she would become Jodi or Jezebel or even
Jill, I held her, feeling the outsized hardness of her flexing
muscles as she shuddered against me, bawling her heart out.
And, good man that I am, I tried to hide the pulsating hard-on
that cried out for its own comforting.  I knew Jennifer was
not the one to take care of that.

I took her to bed and laid her down, then dragged myself to
the other room.  After a fruitless search for a key to let
myself out, and a quick calculation that I would never make it
through the tiny windows of the bungalow, I lay down myself
and slept on the floor.

When I awoke it was the next day.  My eyes popped open
immediately, not knowing who I was sharing a room with.  I
heard movement in the next room.  "Jennifer?"  I said
cautiously.

"No.  It is not Jennifer.  You've certainly slept long
enough."

Great.  Yet another personality.  At least it wasn't Jezebel
or Jodi.  "Who are you?"

"My name is Julia von Markham. You, of course, are Marty
Barnett."  She sighed.  "Please do come in.  I am fully
dressed."

I walked inside.  She was dressed very smartly in a cool linen
dress, sleeveless of course, reflecting the heat and the
bungalow's lack of air-conditioning, but very stylish.  Her
hair was up, and her face was made up as though she taking a
short break between shootings of a Vogue cover.  The only
incongruous thing were the enormous biceps that lay casually
on her arms.  I tried not to stare.

"I suppose I must apologize for some of the other
personalities that inhabit this body.  It seems one of them
has beaten you most severely.  Jezebel is it not?  It is a
shame she is so strong. Unfortunately it cannot be helped.  We
do develop muscle so, so easily, and some of the personalities
seem to spend most of their time augmenting our strength even
further.  From my perspective, it is such a bore.  And it is
so hard to find proper clothes, especially in Malaysia.  Miss
Gayle is so kind to have them made for me."

She sat so erectly I wanted to stand at attention.  She made
no motion to induce me to sit, as there was no place to sit
down other than the bed, and somehow I didn't think she'd want
me on the bed.  "You seem so different from the others."

"Well, we are all quite different.  The Ur-Jennifer is a
remarkable girl, but she is quite unable to realize her
potential, and has instead fractured into countless persona,
each expressing a different aspect of herself.  The Jennifer
you have met completely disregards her intellectual
capability.  I myself have an IQ of 173, so the Ur-Jennifer
must be capable of at least that."

"Is there any way to control these personality changes?  They
are, uh, very dangerous."

"Sadly no.  It is the Ur-Jennifer herself who triggers them,
likely through an involuntary avoidance reaction.
Unfortunately, I do not have sufficient consciousness of the
conditions that bring them about to explain or control them.
It would require an understanding of the complex personality
of the Ur-Jennifer, of which I am only a part. It is
unfortunate that you seem to be caught here.  You are
apparently quite ill-equipped to protect yourself from the
more aggressive persona."

"Ill-equipped!  What do you—

"I simply mean that your strength is very limited compared
with ours.  I am merely stating the obvious.  I hope you do
not think I am boasting.  I myself derive very little
satisfaction from having extremely large muscles, although I
understand from Gayle that you find them very attractive.  It
does strike me as ironic that the very muscle you admire is
causing you such pain and humiliation."

"Yeah well, don't be so sure I like them."

She gave me a look.

"You keep referring to 'Er-Jennifer.'  What is that?"

"Oh dear!  I am sorry if I am assuming too much knowledge on
your part.  I refer to the underlying persona of all of us as
'Ur-Jennifer,' 'Ur' meaning the origin or original source."

"Do that mean that Jennifer is the closest to being "Ur-
Jennifer."

"Oh I have no idea at all.  I use the term because we were
known as Jennifer at home, but it could be any of us, or none.
I do hope it is not that Jodi persona, though.  I find her
"Low Church" attitude most offensive. "

"Well, you are all so strong.  I don't know how any—

"Yes, yes, I know.  That is, of course, one reason why we are
here, because when we lived in America, we were always heavily
sedated to protect the staff.  Now that was a real bore.  At
least here I may read, Jill may play and Jodi may pray. But
what about you, Mr. Barnett?  Whatever will become of you?  I
am not a lawyer, of course, but I would think your career is
over.  How would you defend yourself, since the authorities
have seized your bank accounts?  No one will want to know you,
will they?"  She sniffed.  "Certainly, if we had not been
thrown together like this, I would not."

I stared at her.

"Well, I am a von Markham.  Who are you?  There, you see?"
She sighed.  "Now, if you really would excuse me.  I was
reading a most interesting book about the quark, and I may not
have very much time to finish it.  One never knows."

"Please, please, don't go back to your book.  It is so nice
talking to you.  It's the first real conversation I've had in
days!"

Julie raised her eyebrows.  "I am so sorry.  I do wish I could
say the same."  She sat primly on the bed and motioned to the
door with her eyes.  I got the message.  I was to leave.

"Oh, well, I see, that's fine."  I couldn't believe I was
being rejected by this sixteen year old psycho.  "Perhaps I'll
just be going then.  Would you at least unlock the door for
me?"

She put the book down, placing her finger on part of the page.
"Excuse me?  Surely not!"

"But –

"I said I did not wish to converse further.  I did not say I
would release you.  You are to remain here until Gayle calls
for you.  I would have thought that would be obvious to you."

"I can't believe this.  You understand what this means.
Sooner or later, Jezebel will come back and –

"I recall that I did express my regrets, but I can do nothing.
Your position is unfortunate.  I expressed my views to Gayle
at the time but she was unmoved.  I will repeat my opinion
when I see her next, but that is all I will do."

I stalked out of the room. I would have to break the door
down, then.  I sure as hell was not going to wait for the next
crazy who appeared in the "Ur-Jennifer's" body.  I ran and
slammed myself against the door.  It gave slightly.  I took a
few steps backward and then felt a strong hand on my shoulder.

"Stop that at once.  I will not allow this!"  I turned and
there was Julia, standing as stiffly as a dancer, her hand
clenched on my neck.  "Your behavior is most disturbing!"  She
pivoted and sent me tumbling across the room, stopping only
when my shoulder landed against the wall.  She remained
standing, not a hair out of place.  "I will be most annoyed if
you force me to stand guard, but if you persist, then I have
no other choice and stand guard I shall."

I shook my head.  "Go back to your book.  I won't trouble
you."

She nodded briefly and returned to her room.  I could hear the
pages turning and the scratching of a pen as she took notes.
For all knew, she was writing her own response to the author.
I walked over the bookshelf, but there was nothing for me to
read – just teen novels, romance novels, prayer books and
brainy books for Julia like Plato and Kant.  Then I thought
about the newscast Jennifer had mentioned.  She said she taped
it for Gayle.  It was still in the VCR!  I rewound it and
turned it on.

"And another insider trading scandal hits Wall Street, where
greed, the hot Internet sector, and intricate trading combine
to create temptations some cannot resist.  We go to Tom Bell
for the story."

"Marty Barnett was a rising young banker.  He seemed to have
everything going for him.  A good career, a big salary, and
the high regard of his firm.  With hard work, he could have
been a partner in just a few years, with a salary in excess of
$3 million a year.  But he was a young man in a hurry, and
now, his scheme exposed, his career is ruined.  At last word,
Barnett was somewhere in Southeast Asia, his assets seized by
the U.S. Attorney's Office, the web of dummy companies he
created to trade in the shares of companies he purportedly was
advising fully exposed."

"Assistant U.S. Attorney Carl Mc—

Marty angrily shut it off.  Fucking Gayle!  He scowled,
wanting again throw something.  Then he noticed the other room
was completely quiet.  Was Julia sleeping?  He walked quietly
toward the door.  An arm snaked out and pulled me in and threw
me onto the bed.

"Oh I'm so happy you're still here! "

It must have been Jocelyn.  She was peppering me with kisses
and pulling off my clothes and hers, kicking Julia's designer
dress into a heap on the floor.  "Jocelyn?"

"The very one!  I am so hot for you, and I won't take no for
an answer."  She pinned me on the bed and started licking my
chest.  Her tongue on my nipples was driving my body wild with
desire for her.  I struggled to get up to her or pull her down
to me, but she held me on the bed while she feathered my body
with her tongue and her fingers.  "Tee hee!  Oh, Marty!  I
just love your body, and I know you want me too."

"Jocelyn.  Please.  We may not have much time."

She grinned and lightly stroked my penis, which strained to
grow long enough to close the gap between our bodies.  Then,
once again, that smile changed.

"Waill, how nice.  Look who's underneath me!"  The hand that
was caressing my penis closed around it tightly, her finger
pressed hard against the base.  "Jocelyn's such a tease, you
know.  And she's got you in such a nice position.  Ah don't
even have to be strong to break this li'l feller in two, do
Ah?  Jes' one li'l squeeze and – what's that?  You'all don't
want me to touch you?"

"Jezebel, please, please don't –

"You're raht.  There's something else I need."  She moved
forward on me, pinning my arms with her knees and lowered her
vagina onto my mouth.  "Git to work, and if your good, Ah'll
spare you, for now."  I obeyed, starting to tongue her as well
as I could, the indignity  reduced by the delicate taste of
her nether regions.

"Marty!  What are you doing!"

It was Gayle.  I tried to speak but I made only muffled
sounds.

"He's in ovah his head, Gayle," Jezebel smirked.

"Let him go Jezebel!  Marty, are you all right?"

"Help me, Gayle!  She's trying to rape me."

A look of disgust crossed Jezebel's face.  "Well, theah's you
protector, Marty."  She climbed off me just as Gayle stepped
inside.

I could only stare up at her.  She was enormous, at least
6'4", maybe taller.  She was wearing a short red skirt with
red and yellow cloth boots rising to the bottom of her thick
calves, along with a tight fitting blue top with a "G" in the
middle. Even the fantasy pictures I'd seen on the Internet
could not have prepared me for such a vision of power.  Her
chest billowed out frighteningly from her tiny waist, the
globes of muscle piled on of top each other, higher and wider
as my eyes moved upwards, culminating in two huge, wonderfully
accented breasts whose nipples pushed against her blue top
like bullets. Gayle had more muscle than Superman, Batman and
the Incredible Hulk put together.  Her forearms were thicker
than my thighs, and her chest would make a redwood think it
was a stick.  But except for the rippling six pack of muscle
across the front of her stomach her waist was as slim as a
Playboy centerfold.

Jezebel leered at me. "There'll be another tahm, Ah'm sure of
it!" She put her hands on her hips, looking at my naked body,
taking in the scene.

"Gayle, at last!" was all I could say.

"Jezebel, whoever you are today, would you leave us?  I have
to spend some time with Marty."

"O.K. Gayle.  See you later, Maaarty."

I certainly hoped not.  I wanted to yell at Gayle for all she
had done to me, but her body struck me speechless.  She sat
down on the bed, her long legs extending a mile and touched my
leg.  She didn't say anything for a minute.

"Well, that's not exactly the way I expected to see you,
Marty."  I glared at her, thankful for my rescue, but furious
at all she had done to me.  "You look angry.  Should I ask
Jezebel to come back?  I can go away again, if you like."

"No!  Don't leave me with her!"

She smiled, relaxing a little.  "Oh good!  After all these years, I wasn't sure
what to expect.  I was too nervous to see you.  It was Jezebel's idea that you
stay with her for awhile.  Maldarni would have looked in on you, but then you
killed her and tried to run away.  Everything got a little more difficult.  I had
to pay some people off, but that's O.K. now.  And we're together again Marty.  I
can't believe it."

"You-you've grown Gayle," I said stupidly.

"Oh yeah, Marty.  I ended up the biggest of the whole family."
She looked at me shyly.

"It's a miracle."

"Oh no, Marty.  I worked very, very hard on myself to be
deserving of you.  I know I was lucky with the money and my
body does respond to exercise, but I wouldn't have looked like
this otherwise."  She put her big arm around me and squeezed,
nearly compressing my bones into one narrow pile.  "Oh dear!
Sorry Marty.  I'm used to being around really strong people.
I'll be more careful."

"Just how strong are you?"

"Oh Marty!"  She laughed.  "Come feel for yourself."

I sat up next to her and took hold of her upper arm.  Not only
couldn't I budge the arm holding me, but after I got through a
soft layer of skin at the surface my fingers would bend back
against her iron-hard muscle, like she really was Supergirl.
I felt dwarfed by her size and her height, which she
compounded by bending her head down and kissing my neck, then
licking it.

"Oh, your smell, your taste!  Just like I remembered it!"  She
took a deep breath and let out a contented sigh, enjoying my
ineffectual squirming against her powerful body.

"Gayle.  We have some things to talk about. Like kidnapping
me, and framing me.  What are you trying to do to me?" I
asked, a little fearfully.

"Oh, Marty, nothing that would hurt you, I promise."

"Well, I want you to let me leave."

"Oh no you don't."  Her hand strayed to my crotch.  "And you
can't escape from Supergirl, Marty.  You're just an ordinary
man, and I have powers far beyond that of mortal men."  She
laughed.  "Oooh!  I can see you getting hard already, and it
doesn't take X-ray vision. See how hard you are.  I bet you
haven't been so turned on in years."

"That's not the point.  I --

"It's exactly the point.  You don't know what you want."

I sputtered.  "I know exactly what I want, and it's not being
kidnapped by you or anyone."

Her fingers grazed my body gently.  "You're being so silly.
I'm not hurting you; I'm caressing you, making you feel good.
You've gotten so confused somehow that you don't know what is
going on, but I'm going to help you."

I was getting so frustrated that I wanted to scream, but
instead Gayle leaned down, pulled me against her, put her
mouth onto mine and locked me in a passionate kiss.  I can't
deny that I was as aroused as I had ever been.  I wanted to
run my hands up and down her arms, to probe her bulging
biceps, to caress her chest and feel the soft breasts on top
of her stacks of pectoral muscles.  But I couldn't surrender
to her.  The conflict was killing me, and then she gripped my
ass more tightly and pulled me onto her lap, pumping me up and
down against her hard, ridged abdomen.  I felt like I'd come
in seconds and tried desperately to focus on something else,
my tax audit, my appointment calendar, the homeless guy I'd
see in the vestibule of my building each morning.

But countering that, Gayle started whispering into my ear. "I
want you to look at my muscles Marty.  Aren't they bigger and
harder than anything you could ever imagine? I kept on growing
long after you stopped.  See how long my legs are?  They're
long and thick and hard.  You know, I've been working out six,
seven, eight hours a day, getting stronger and stronger,
lifting, running, dancing, swimming, while you sat in the
Dartmouth Library or in an office or on an airplane.   Now I'm
bigger than you in every way.  Oh, I just knew you'd like it.
Can you believe that I'm six feet, six inches in my stockings
and I weigh three hundred seventy five pounds?  Can't you feel
how hard my muscles are?  They're incredibly dense, even
without flexing them.  It's because I used a special training
technique I learned from a Romanian weightlifting coach -- no
drugs!  Pound for pound I'm three times as strong as most
people, and I've got lots of pounds of muscle.  Marty, do you
know what I can do?  I can curl four hundred pounds twenty
times in two minutes.  I can throw a baseball two hundred
miles an hour and hit a fastball a quarter of a mile.  I can
split a man's skull with one punch, although I'd never do
that, except to protect you of course.  This really turns you
on, I can feel it.  I can tell you more . I -- oh!  You just
came.  Hee-hee!  Oh I knew it!  I knew it!  I just knew I
would turn you on!  Oh, it's gonna be so great!"  She put me
down and jumped up and down, the floor shaking from her
weight.

I felt dizzy.  "Gayle, but what about my life?"

"Oh your old life's over Marty.  These things are very hard to
put straight, with lawyers fees and everything.  And you'd
never be able to work again, not at your old job.  But soon
you'll see that this is absolutely the best thing.  You'll
love this place.  And you can manage my money.  That'll be
fun, won't it?"

"It's not what I planned on."

"Oh, I know that.  But remember, I'm here to help you, and I'm
going to get you straightened out.  Come on, let's go to my
part of the camp."  She stood up, carrying my weight as easily
as if I were a third breast.

"I can walk myself, if you please."  She put me down and I
pulled on my clothes and walked silently beside her as we
walked across the grounds into her house, her hand constantly
touching me to make sure I was really there.

"I didn't expect to find you in bed with Jezebel, you know.
She isn't usually very nice to strangers.  In fact, she can be
very mean.  Is that what you like?"

"No, Gayle.  She was attacking me."

"Well, why didn't you push her off?  That's what I always do
when she misbehaves.  Oh, right!"  She looked at me.  "I sort
of forgot that you're not as strong as she is.  I mean, I know
I'm stronger than you, but I forget that other girls are too.

"Gayle!"

"I mean, some other girls.  I'm really very nervous seeing you
again."  She looked at me again, more closely than before.
"Gee, I ... I don't know what to say.  I think ... oh, I
know!"  She took my hand and pulled me up to her bedroom.
When I resisted, she just picked me up and carried me.

"I've been dreaming about this moment for years, Marty.  Ever
since that night at Dartmouth, and I decided I would be the
biggest, strongest girl in the world and you would want me so
much that you'd never tell me to leave again."  She pulled
down her skirt and pulled off her top and I almost died.  Her
breasts sprang outwards.  Not only was she packed with the
largest muscles I had ever seen, but her lycra suit had been
compressing the largest pair of hooters I had ever seen in
person.  And they sat on her chest like two enormous eyes, not
sagging an inch.  I couldn't help myself.  I rested my head
against them, and lost myself in their pillowy depths.

"I know I have a good body, Marty.  We're all big-breasted in
our family, but we develop late, so they're still kind of new
to me.  And because I work out so much mine stay really firm.
I still need a bra.  Do you want to know the size?  I know men
like to know these things."

Even with her mindless chatter, I could feel myself stiffening
already.  Maybe I could be happy with her.  I shook my head
deep inside her breast.  She laughed and picked me up and
carried me to her bed, laying me gently on top of her so
deftly that I never even took my lips off her nipple.  I
started touching her more insistently now, my hands ranging
across her shoulders and down her arms, feeling the solid
balls of muscle wherever they roamed.  Obligingly she flexed
each muscle for me, letting me experience its growth and its
hardness.  I was nearly beside myself with desire, kissing her
breasts and her neck and licking her clit to several orgasms
in succession.

She was almost crying.  "Oh Marty!  It's not at all what I
expected!  I can't believe this! Oh, you should be inside me.
I want you inside me right now!"  She pulled me up to her and
inserted me inside.  I couldn't believe how tight she felt or
the sensations created by the waves of contractions her
muscles forced on my penis.  I opened my eyes to look at her,
but her eyes were tightly closed, her hands busily feeling my
arms and back.  Maybe she was right.  Maybe I could find
happiness with her, alone in this camp in the middle of
Southeast Asia.  Finally, I could control myself no longer and
thrusting as hard as I could I came in a flood.  I nestled my
head on her breast again and lay there, unexpectedly at peace,
caressing her cheek.

"Gayle."  I said quietly.  "Gayle.  Maybe you were right."

She opened her eyes and looked at me, not saying anything.

"You really are spectacular, you know."  She nodded.  "I think
maybe I"

"Don't Marty!  Don't say it."  Then she shook her head, and
abruptly pushed me off her.  I rolled onto the floor.

"Hey, what was that?!"

"It's no good.  It's no good!"

"What do you mean?  It was great!  You came five times!"

She sat up, her immense chest heaving violently.  "It's not
right.  After all this time it's not right!!"

"What?!!"

"Your body.  You're so light, and soft.  It's like you're not
even there."

"Gayle, I just made you come five times.  Obviously I was
there."

"All these years I thought about you, fantasized about you,
but I'm too big for you Marty. I can hardly feel you."

"You're not too big.  You're perfect."

"Well, maybe."  She looked down at her body, flexing her right
arm and watching her biceps rise.  "But YOU'RE not.  I've
gotten bigger, and you're the same as before, worse maybe.
It's not right.  We're not a good match.  I was wrong."

"Gayle!!  I've been working all these years.  I couldn't spend
all my time in a gym."

She shrugged.  "I don't know about all that. I'm sure you
could have done something." She shook her head.  "I have to
think."  She pulled on a shirt and wrapped a skirt around her
enormous body and left the house.  I stared at her as she
walked out.  This was impossible.  She couldn't leave me, not
after what had just happened.  Not after she'd completely
destroyed my life.

I heard nothing for hours.  Then I heard someone come in.  It
was Jennifer.

"Marty?  Are you in here?  It's me, Jennifer."

"I'm in the kitchen."

She walked in, dressed for her run.  "I just saw Gayle as she
left.  Gee, I'm sorry Marty."

"Sorry?"

"I mean things not working out."

"What?  She told YOU that she's left me?"

"Yeah.  She seemed really upset and didn't want to tell you
herself.  She said you could stay here as long as you liked.
She's really sorry about the insider trading thing.  She told
me you didn't really do it.  I'm glad Marty.  It would have
been terrible if you had."

"But, but what am I supposed to do now?"

"I don't know.  Can you tell them what happened?"

"They'll never believe me."

"Yeah.  I know how that is.  People never believe me either.
Well, you can stay here.  I'm sure she'll let you.  She seems
really broken up about it.  You can stay with me."  She looked
at me shyly.  "I like you."

"I like you too, Jennifer, but ...."  The realization of what
this meant was sweeping through me.  I could never leave, not
for years at least, until the statute ran.

"Jennifer?  Mah name's Jezebel."


[The end]