Worship Me Part 23
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com



Chapter 79

I hate long flights, but the fact that John and I were seated in first class
certainly helped. What also helped that an older flight attendant seemed
particularly attracted to John. When I pointed this out, he said, "Please, I'm
flattered, but she's just being thorough in her job." 'Well,' I thought,
'thorough or not, I'll take the added attention too' since I was seated next
to John.

About three hours into the flight, I got up to use the bathroom. As I was
coming out, the flight attendant said, "Excuse me, but may I ask if the
gentleman you're with is your husband or boyfriend?" I looked her in the eye
and said, "No, although we do sleep together on occasion, he's not my husband
or boyfriend. Give him your number, if you like." She smiled, clearly not sure
about the remark I made about John and I sleeping together. "Thanks," she
said, "perhaps I will."

Once the flight was at its jet way and the doors had been opened, we began to
file out. The flight attendant said, "Thank you for flying with us," and
discretely slipped John her number making it look like she was shaking his
hand. I smiled at her as I walked by and mouthed the words, 'Good luck.'

Gwen picked us up at the airport, John and her up front so as to discuss
business, while I sat in the back seat.

Chapter 80

I went to the bank to deposit the check from Tony and Diana, and I ran a few
other errands. When I returned to the house, Gwen said, "This came for you,"
and handed me another assignment from Lt. Bowman. Then she surprised me and
said, "Oh, yes, one other thing, Roger called and wanted to know if you wanted
to get together, he's back on the mainland," she said.

I must have looked a little stunned. She handed me a call slip with his name
and number on it. I went to my room and dialed his number. "Hello," he said.
"Hello yourself, Roger, this is Jane." "Hi," he said, "How have you been? I've
missed you." "I've missed you too," I said, which was not entirely true.

We set up to meet the next day and go to the beach. I checked with John and
Gwen and neither had anything pressing. Then I opened the folder that Lt.
Bowman had sent over. The case involved a suspected serial killer who targeted
couples parked in lover lanes. The individual had been questioned, several
times, but the police had never been able to tie him to any of the three
couple that had been murdered. This would require some real surveillance work.

The following day, I picked up Roger at his house. He lived a couple miles
from Manhattan Beach. We parked in the public lot and found a place on the
sand. It was one of those gorgeous cloudless California days. There was a hint
of a breeze and the temperature was about 78-degrees on the sand.

Roger had packed a blanket and he spread it out. I sat a cooler with
sandwiches and drinks on a corner of the blanket and pulled my cove up over my
head. "Hey," Roger said, "we're not on Makena Beach anymore." I had on a thong
that, with my tan, looked from a distance as if I were naked. I chuckled. "Do
you think I'll attract attention with this suit?" I asked. "Honey, you attract
enough attention no matter what you wear or don't wear," he said. 'Honey,' I
thought, 'he called me honey.'

Roger took off his shorts and lay next to me. Our hands touched and we laced
our fingers. Soon we both dozed.

I wasn't sure how long I had been asleep, but I woke and saw Roger watching
me. "What are you doing," I asked without raising my head. "Just watching you
sleep," he said. "Was I snoring," I asked. "Yes," he said, "something
dreadful," and laughed.

Before I rolled over a blast of sand hit me. "Hey," Roger said, sitting up,
"watch it." "Watch what, geek," a young punk said. He was throwing a football
back and forth with a friend. The ball had hit the sand near my head throwing
up the lose sand. "Why don't you play catch somewhere else," Roger said. "Why
don't you make me, jerk", the teen said.

Roger stood up, and the teenager immediately got in his face. The teen's buddy
came running. Clearly this was not going as planned. The initial teen pushed
Rogers shoulder and Roger made to push back, but the teen dodged the shove and
the second teen nearly knocked him to the sand.

"OK, stop it, you guys," I said getting to my feet. "Hey, look Jack, its
bigfoot," said the first teen to his buddy and began laughing. "Yea, Fred, or
maybe the hulk," said the second teen. I looked at Roger who was still
watching the two teens. I said, "What is the youth coming to these days."
"Couple of assholes" Roger said, and it looked like the pair was going to walk
away.

Roger began to sit down on the blanket when the first kid, Fred, threw the
ball, hitting Roger in the back. I picked the ball up and looked back at the
boy and he held his hands up like I should throw it back to him. "Sorry," he
said, "slipped out of my hands." I smiled and threw the ball into the ocean.
"Slipped out of mine too, you bitch." I said.

He came toward me, in a swagger, and when he was about ten feet away, I calmly
said, "One more step and I'll break your arm." He hesitated and looked at me,
"What did you say, bitch?" I laughed and said, "If you come any closer, I'm
going to break your arm, and that goes for your girlfriend there too." I was
trying to bait them to attack. This would be fun.

The first boy, Fred, walked forward, now without the swagger. I looked at
Roger and then back at the teen and said, "You didn't believe I'd break your
arm, did you?" and I grabbed him around the neck. It happened quickly and
before he could react, I snapped his forearm with my other hand. He screamed.
I threw him aside. "What about you sweet cheeks, feeling brave?" He turned and
ran off.

I looked down at Fred and said, "Your friend split on you, I think it's about
time you got new friends." "Yes," he sobbed, "I'm sorry." "Oh, boo-hoo," I
said, "You'll live, you just won't be able to throw a football for six to
eight weeks. Now get out of here." He got to his feet and ran in the direction
his friend had gone.

I ran down to the waterline and picked up the football that had been floating
in the surf. I brought it back to the blanket and told Roger, "They forgot
their football." "We can just leave it; I don't think the ball was that
important to the kid with the broken arm." I shrugged and the holding the ball
with both hands, crushed it till it popped. I squeezed it flat and tossed it
aside. Roger laughed.

"Let's go back to my place," Roger suggested, "I have something I want to show
you."

Chapter 81

Roger lived in a single story two-bedroom, one-bath house that had been built
in the late 60's. It had been remodeled, with a sun porch in back. It was neat
and clean, as I suspected it would be.

"Would you like something to drink," Roger asked. "No, I'm fine," I said,
standing in the middle of the living room. Roger came back into the room from
the back of the house and handed me a photo. "Does she look familiar," he
asked. Much to my surprise, it was a picture of Sheila, my mentor and coach,
and Roger's aunt. "Oh my God," I said, "this is her. This is Sheila, the one
that ran the gym I went to." "That's Sheila all right," Roger said, "but she's
been gone for quite a few years now." "I still can't believe it," I said, now
studying the photograph more closely. It showed Sheila in front of a brick
building. She was standing by the doorway, but I couldn't make out the writing
on the sign. "Where was this taken?" I asked. "I'm not sure," Roger said, "but
I do know it was a gym she owned somewhere here in California." 'Wow,' I
thought, 'this is too weird.'

I handed the photo back to Roger and he put an arm around me and drew my body
into his. He looked up slightly and I kissed him, then we touched tongues. "I
missed you," he said when we parted. "And I missed you too," I said. I ran a
hand down his back and gave his butt a squeeze.

We stepped apart and undressed, and then embraced once more, our hands
exploring each other as if it were for the first time. "I need to feel you
inside me," I said and took him by the hand and led him to the couch. I lay
down and he stood over me, his cock looking bigger than it had in Hawaii. I
took it in my hand and slowly stroked his shaft. "Roger, do you have a tape
measure," I said, "I swear your cock has gotten bigger." "Oh, Jane, I have a
tape measure, but let's not worry about that now," he said. "No," I said and
squeezed his shaft, "I want to measure it now."

"OK, OK," he said, "I'll get it," and a minute later he was back with a tape
measure. I measured his erection at 12-inches, then wrapping the tape around
the shaft, measured the circumference at nearly 6-inches. "I knew you were
bigger," I said.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, "my turn, flex that bicep for me." I did and he ran the
tape around recording 181/2-inches. "Very nice, Jane," he said, "Now the
quads," and he measured 28-inches. "One thing I am curious about," I said, "is
the length of my tongue. Here, measure that," and I opened my mouth and stuck
my tongue out as far as I could.

"That's incredible," Roger said, "its 10-inches long." "I knew it was long," I
said, "but not that long." He measured my calves at 181/2-inches, waist at
24-inches, hips at 35-inches and then put the tape around my chest and said,
"OK, inhale," which I did, "damn, Jane, I almost need a longer tape, you
measured 54-inches, that's incredible." I thought my blouses were becoming a
little 'snug'.

We made passionate love with Roger exploring every inch of my body with both
his tongue and fingers. He was an attentive, unhurried lover. I loved holding
him and feeling his member inside. Two-hours later we were both bathed in
sweat.

We showered and allowed the warm water to cascade down our bodies. Together we
toweled and made love one more time.

Chapter 82

I drove home and had no sooner walked in the door than Gwen said, "There's a
package for you that was on the doorstep," and pointed to a shoebox size
carton. The cardboard box was unmarked accept for my name, 'Jane' on one side
in block letters. I knew it was from Sheila.

Using my nail, I sliced the tape and opened the flaps. There were several
bottles of supplement tablets, one red and 4 blue, a photograph of a young boy
of about 7 or 8 and a note. The note read;

'Jane,

You have achieved what you set out to achieve, however, know that there is
much work ahead of you. The 'supplements' in the red bottle are yours, the
blue are for your partner.

The photograph is your partner at an early age. Tell him I love him. Take care
of him, I chose you to mentor him.

I will not be contacting you again,

Sheila'

'So, this is it,' I thought, 'the last communication from Sheila'. I looked at
the photograph of what I assumed was Roger. The boy stared back at me with a
smile on his face and a baseball mitt on his left hand.

I would have show Roger the picture and give him the tablets his aunt had sent
to me from beyond the grave. She never referred to him by name, but simply as
'partner'.