Danielle, Part Eight:  All's Well...
by Sonofjack, sonofjackwell@gmail.com
Read how it all ends.


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In case you're wondering what motivated me to conclude Danielle's story after
more than two years after Part 3, it's very simple. A reader emailed me and
asked me if I would ever get back to it. I told him that I intended to, but
that I didn't know when. I also didn't know exactly how the story would end.
Eventually, he offered to commission an ending and generously didn't put any
restrictions regarding story content. I'm very happy with the way the story
ended, and I'd like to public ally thank him for commissioning these stories.
He knows who he is.

If you would like to comment on Danielle or commission a story, email me at
sonofjackwell@gmail.com

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I guess the first thing you need to know is that after graduation I didn't see
Danielle Thorn for almost three years. The last time I saw her was the morning
after the first and only time we made love. I found out that Danielle was gone
when Mademoiselle Desiree pounded on my apartment door the next evening
demanding to know where Danielle was.

Mademoiselle Desiree was the beautiful French teacher at Benjamin Franklin
High School where I was a first year science teacher. At the time she showed
up at my door, I was about to turn twenty-three and she was twenty-five. She
was also the willing love slave of Danielle Thorn.

It's fair to say that I had a little crush on Mademoiselle Desiree. Before I
lost my mind and fell hopelessly in love with my student Danielle, I spent a
lot of time fanaticizing about Mademoiselle Desiree. She was petite and very
beautiful with a tight little body highlighted by ample C-cup breasts, a fine,
firm ass and shapely, dancer's legs. She wore her brown hair short.

My crush on her was from afar. We didn't share the same lunch schedule at
school, and her classroom was on the other side of the building. I only caught
fleeting glances of her now and then, but I was very charmed by what I saw. I
never seriously thought I had a chance with her. When I discovered that she
was one of Danielle's frequent sexual partners, I KNEW I didn't have a chance
so I gave up all hope.

When Danielle discovered that I had a little crush on Mademoiselle Desiree,
she seemed a bit jealous. I figured that this was only because Danielle
always wanted to be the center of attention. I thought it was ironic when
Nicole Evans - another of Danielle's love slaves - told me that Mademoiselle
Desiree was jealous of the way Danielle talked about me with such respect and
affection.

When Mademoiselle Desiree showed up at my apartment with the news that
Danielle had apparently moved out of her apartment without saying goodbye or
telling anyone (at least neither of us), I was disappointed, but not really
surprised. I didn't expect to become Danielle's official boyfriend after we
made love, but I thought she would at least keep in the rotation.

I invited Mademoiselle Desiree inside and asked her to tell me what was going
on. "You tell me. I'm sure you know more than I do," she cried. She was angry
because she was convinced that I knew where Danielle had gone and wasn't
telling her.

When I finally convinced Mademoiselle Desiree that I didn't know where
Danielle had gone, and that took some doing, she calmed down a little and told
me what she knew. It wasn't much. Danielle's apartment was empty, and
apparently she was gone. Since Nicole lived with Danielle, I asked
Mademoiselle Desiree where she was. "I don't know; Danielle must have taken
her along." This seemed to upset her even more.

"Why didn't she take me with her, too? Why not me?" She began to cry. I got out
of the chair I was sitting in and went and sat next to Mademoiselle Desiree on
the couch. I put my arm around her to try to comfort her. She buried her face
into my shoulder and sobbed for the next hour.

I was also sad, of course. I was in love with Danielle too. Once Mademoiselle
Desiree stopped crying, I offered her a cold beverage which she accepted. We
sat there together on the couch drinking our Diet Pepsi's. "Are you sure you
have no idea where she might have gone?" she asked me.

"I promise that if I had the slightest idea I would tell you."

For the first time since coming there, Mademoiselle Desiree smiled. "I believe
you Mr. Jenkins. You seem like a nice man." We started talking about Danielle.
I told her about how I tried to give Danielle a C on her report card and how
she insisted I change it to an A.

"Oh, you stupid, stupid man," Mademoiselle Desiree laughed, "Didn't anyone
tell you?"

"No, I had to find out that hard way." What I found out was that every teacher
gave Danielle straight A's. They did it because Danielle - beautiful,
delicate, 5'5", 115 pound Danielle - was strong enough to lift cars over her
head and to drive railroad spikes into concrete with her tiny fists.

We ended up talking late into the night about the unbelievable feats of
strength we'd heard associated with Danielle, and the remarkable things we'd
seen with our own eyes. Mademoiselle Desiree had witnessed far more than I.

"Can she really lift cars over her head?" I asked. I'd heard she could but
never seen it myself.

"She makes it look easy," Mademoiselle Desiree replied dreamily.

Eventually, I could see that Mademoiselle Desiree was getting sleepy and
emotionally exhausted. "Instead of driving home, why don't you sleep here
tonight?" I suggested. "I changed the sheets on my bed this morning, and I can
sleep here on the couch." She was in no shape to turn down my offer, so she
accepted.

I showed her my bedroom and got her a clean towel in case she wanted to shower
in the morning. I started to get settled on the couch when I heard her call my
name. I stuck my head in the bedroom door and said, "Is there something you
need?"

"Mr. Jenkins, I know this may sound unusual, but will you sleep with me
tonight? I'm so sad and lonely, and I know that Danielle thought highly of you.
Having you in bed next to me will make me feel closer to her."

When I slipped into bed next to Mademoiselle Desiree, I was surprised to find
her naked under the covers. She drifted immediately off to sleep. I laid there
awake all night trying to suppress my erection.

For the next several days, Mademoiselle Desiree would drop by my apartment
every evening asking if I'd heard from Danielle. Even though I hadn't, she
would usually end up staying for a while and talking with me. I thought that 
Iwas obsessed with Danielle. It didn't take much to see that my obsession was
nothing compared to Mademoiselle Desiree's. Her devotion reminded me of a
religious fanatic's.

Gradually, we began talking about other topics. We began to develop a
friendship that consisted of more than just being in love with the same woman.
More often than not, she ended up spending the night.

One night after she got into my bed, I started to get settled on the couch.
"Aren't you going to sleep in bed with me?" she asked.

"If it's all the same to you, I think maybe the couch would be better," I said.

"Why?" I explained to her that it was hard for me to get a decent night's
sleep with her lying naked next to me.

"Why is it so hard?" she asked, "Is it because you get... hard?"

"Well... yes," I replied, "And I know that you're lesbian and --"

"What makes you think I'm lesbian?" she asked.

"Because you're in love with Danielle."

"But that's not because she's a woman. It's because she's Danielle," she
explained. I understood exactly what she meant. "Danielle is the only woman
I've ever had sex with. As a matter of fact, I'm very attracted to men."

"But still," I said, "What are the chances a woman as beautiful as you could
ever be attracted to a guy like me?"

Mademoiselle Desiree threw back the covers on my bed revealing her very sexy
naked body and said, "How about one hundred percent?" That was the first time
we made love. After that I dropped the Mademoiselle, and she became just
Desiree.

Shortly after that, the first postcard from Danielle appeared in my mailbox.
It was mailed from Paris. The note was short and didn't reveal much. She did
confirm that Nicole was traveling with her.

When I showed the postcard to Desiree, she became sullen and remote. I could
tell that it bothered her knowing that Danielle had taken Nicole with her to
Paris and not her. I think that it also bothered her that I received a
postcard but she didn't.

By the end of the summer, Desiree and I had moved in together. I loved her and
I know that she was very fond of me. We made love almost every night, and we
laughed a lot and got along very well. Still, it wasn't perfect. Every two or
three weeks at irregular intervals, I would get another postcard from
Danielle.

They were always from different parts of the world. There seemed to be no
pattern to her travels. One postcard would come from Madagascar. The next one
would be from Rio de Janeiro, and the next one after that would be from New
Delhi.

Every time I received a postcard, Desiree would become morose and quiet. It's
a strange thing to love a woman who loves another woman that you also love. 
At the same time, I couldn't really be angry with Desiree. I understood
completely why she was in love with Danielle. I also couldn't find it in my
heart to be resentful of Danielle. How could I? She was like a force of
nature. How can one be resentful or jealous of a beautiful sunset, or a raging
typhoon?

For the next several months, the postcards continued to roll in from places
like London, Tokyo, Cape Town, Buenos Aries, Rome, Sidney, Saigon, Jakarta,
Vienna, Ulaanbaatar, Jerusalem, the Galapagos Islands, Amsterdam, Belfast,
Hong Kong, Singapore and even Timbuktu.

One day, ten months after Danielle left, Nicole showed up on our doorstep.
Although Desiree did her best to pump her for information, Nicole refused to
talk much about her travels with Danielle. She reported that she and Danielle
had gone to a lot of places and met a lot of people. That about all she would
say.

When Desiree asked her why she came back here, Nicole told her that she had no
place else to go. When Desiree pressed her about why she left Danielle, all
she would say was that in the last month circumstances had changed. I almost
got the feeling that Nicole wanted to tell us something. I also knew that if
Danielle had told her not to tell us then it was pointless to keep asking.

We allowed Nicole to stay with us a couple of weeks until she decided where to
go. Apparently, Danielle had provided her with enough money for her to
relocate and get established someplace. She decided to move to New York City.
After she moved, we never heard from her again.

When I wondered out loud how Danielle could afford to travel the world and to
give Nicole enough money to establish herself, Desiree looked at me like I was
stupid. "Do you seriously think that someone like Danielle would have to worry
about money? EVER?"

After Nicole came and went, I still got postcards from Danielle, but not
nearly as often. Eventually, they slowed down to a trickle. After two years
together Desiree was able to tell me that she loved me. Still, sometimes at
night when she was beside me in bed, I could hear her sobbing softly to
herself. I didn't blame her; I hadn't fully gotten over Danielle either.

Two years after Nicole left, Desiree and I bought a house together and were
talking about getting married. This was two years and ten months after
Danielle left. I hadn't seen her in all that time until she showed up on our 
front porch a few days ago. She was just sitting on our front porch swing when 
Desiree and I got home from school that afternoon.

Desiree was driving and she hardly brought the car to a complete stop in our
driveway when she ran out of the car and ran up the three steps to our porch.
Danielle stood up and didn't even have time to speak before Desiree threw
herself at Danielle's feet. "Why did you leave? Why did you leave me?" she
managed to gasp out between sobs.

I ran up to the porch too, and then stood there like a statue. I just stared at
Danielle. She was a blonde now, but she still had dark eyebrows and wore dark
make-up around her already dark eyes. Her stunning blue-gray orbs looked back
at me. "Hello, Cutie. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Danielle," I said.

I went over and helped Desiree to her feet. She fainted into Danielle's arms,
and Danielle carried her inside. I got a pillow and placed it on the couch.
Danielle gently laid Desiree there and I got a cool, damp washcloth and dabbed
Desiree's forehead with it.

As she was coming around I said to Danielle, "I guess you figured out by now
that Desiree and I live together."

"Are the two of you in love?" Danielle asked.

"I thought so this morning; now I'm not so sure."

If Danielle felt any regret about this, the smile she got when she heard my
response sure didn't indicate it. But again, how can you blame someone who is
universally adored for enjoying it?

Desiree quickly came around. When she saw Danielle she immediately burst into
tears again. They weren't sad tears, but they weren't exactly tears of joy
either. She was crying because she was so overwhelmed by the flood of emotions
she was feeling that she didn't know what else to do.

Once Desiree was able to sit up and not cry uncontrollably, she Danielle and
I sat and talked for a while. I sat in a separate chair; Danielle sat next to
Desiree on the couch. The whole time we talked, I noticed that Desiree could
not keep her hands off Danielle. It made me jealous. I wish it were me sitting
next to the goddess.

Danielle did not want to talk about her travels or what she'd been doing for
the last few years. Instead we talked about... to be honest, I don't remember
what we talked about. Does it matter? Danielle was just patiently giving
Desiree and me some time to adjust to her being there. After about forty-five
minutes she said, "Why don't we dispense with the chit chat and retire to the
bedroom so that you two can get busy worshipping my sexy body?"

We both indicated in our own ways that we were amendable to her suggestion. 
Inodded my head vigorously while Desiree began kissing Danielle's neck.
Danielle carried both of us into the bedroom and the two of us spent the next
several hours doing whatever Danielle told us to.

This was very different from the last time Danielle and I were naked together.
This time, the focus was one hundred percent on her. When she suggested that
Desiree and I spend our time and energy worshipping her sexy body, that's
exactly what she meant. It was far from unpleasant, but it was not as
enchanting as that night two years and ten months ago that still haunted my
dreams.

It's a good thing that Danielle showed up at our door on a Friday night,
because we spent almost the entire next forty-eight hours rolling around naked
with her. If I hadn't reluctantly pulled myself away now and then to either
prepare or order in food and drink, I'm sure that Desiree would have fainted
from hunger and/or dehydration. Such petty, mortal needs never seemed to
concern Danielle.

Finally, on Sunday evening around six PM, Danielle told me to get dressed and
to take a walk. She said she wanted to be alone with Desiree for a while. I
asked her how long I should stay away. She told me that ninety minutes ought
to be long enough.

When I returned ninety-two minutes later, they were sitting on the porch swing
together. Danielle had her arm around Desiree who was softly sobbing. It was
then that I knew that Danielle would be leaving soon. When she saw me, Danielle
stood up and said, "Come on, Scarecrow; you and I are going to spend the night
in a hotel."

"What about Desiree?" I asked.

"She understands," Danielle said.

I started to protest until Desiree smiled at me and said, "No, mon cheri, it's
okay. Go." Danielle and I got into my car and drove to the nicest hotel in
town. She already had a room. When we got inside, Danielle immediately threw
me onto bed and pounced on top of me. The only reason she didn't rip my
clothes off is because I politely asked her not to. I didn't want Desiree to
see my clothes in shreds.

We spent the next several hours making love. It was like before - like the
night of Danielle's high school graduation. I love my sex life with Desiree,
but comparing sex with Desiree to sex with Danielle was like comparing a ride
of a carousel with riding the world's highest, fastest roller coaster. It's
not the carousel's fault.

The next morning I called the school and took a personal day. Danielle
ravished me for several more hours. Finally around noon we stopped for lunch,
we showered together and then we talked. "How soon are you leaving?" I asked.

"I'm leaving from here," she replied.

"You're not even going to say goodbye to Desiree?"

"No, Scarecrow; we said our goodbyes yesterday. Besides, this isn't really
'goodbye'; it's only 'farewell until we meet again'."

I started to cry. I hated myself for it. It was corny and unmanly, but I
couldn't help it. "Promise?" I asked.

"Oh, Scarecrow; please don't cry," she said, "I can't bare it."

"Don't be silly," I laughed, "You're stronger than anybody."

"I'm still not that strong," she confessed. We sat and just looked at each
other for several minutes. Her eyes told me what I already knew. She couldn't
stay, and she couldn't take me with her. She loved me but she needed to be
free. Finally I broke the silence. "I understand, Danielle. You're a cat."

"I'm what?" she asked.

"You're a cat," I repeated. "Nicole explained that to me a long time ago."

"Really?" Danielle looked like she was thinking it over. "Wow... maybe
Nicole's a lot more insightful than I ever gave her credit for."

"How is she, by the way?"

"She's good. She working as a waitress and taking acting classes at night."

"She's trying to become an actress?"

"Yep. I have some connections in New York and in Hollywood. I have a feeling
that she'll be getting some important auditions soon," Danielle concluded.

"Danielle, I know that you have to leave, but couldn't you stay just a few
more days?"

"Sorry, Scarecrow; but believe it or not, I have responsibilities."

"Okay... but if you ever change your mind, you can always move in with Desiree
and me. We obviously don't mind sharing you."

She gently caressed to side of my face with her soft hand. "Maybe not,
Scarecrow. But what makes you so sure that I'd be willing to share you?"

"Why do you keep calling me 'Scarecrow'?" I asked.

"Because I love you the most of all."

There wasn't much more to say. I wiped away my tears and we walked out into
the parking lot. "Wait, I drove you here. How will you leave?"

She pulled out her cell phone. "There's a helicopter on stand-by waiting to
whisk me to Chicago."

"What's in Chicago?" I asked, "A private jet?" She just smiled. "Oh my God!
You've got a private jet." She shoved a slip of paper into my hand. There was
a phone number written on it.

"If you ever need anything - anything - call that number. They can get a
message to me no matter where I am within ten minutes. For emergencies."

"Whoa... this is like the signal watch that Superman gave to Jimmy Olsen."

"What?"

"Never mind," I said.

We stood there in awkward silence for several seconds. Finally I said,
"Danielle, I've heard so many stories about your strength. Sometimes I've
wondered just how strong you really are."

She looked around the parking lot, took my hand and said, "Come with me." She
led me to a semi truck with no load attached to it. It was one of those big
rigs with a large sleeper compartment attached. "This truck weighs about ten
tons," Danielle said. She walked up to it, bent down with her legs and began
to stand.

Without a great deal of effort, she lifted that rig up past her shoulders and
over her head with her arms fully extended. "Is this what you wanted to see?"
she asked.

*Gulp!* "Yes, that will do nicely," I replied. She gently placed the truck
back in its place. We said our final farewell and hugged one last time. "I
love you," I whispered.

"I know. I love you, too."

As drove home I spotted a helicopter flying towards the hotel. I spent the
rest of the afternoon reminiscing.

When Desiree got home from school, I was sitting on the front porch swing. She
walked over and sat next to me. "She's gone," she said sadly.

"Yep," I confirmed.

"She loves you more than she loves me," Desiree said. I didn't know how to
respond. Then Desiree said, "I don't blame her. I love you more than I love me,
too." My eyes filled with tears again. To think that a dork like me could ever
have the love of two such women....

"She told me that I should hurry up and marry you," Desiree informed me.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I think that it's always smart to do what Danielle says." I looked at her and
we kissed. A little while later we went inside.

THE NEXT DAY IN CHICAGO

Danielle was in the hallway of a luxury apartment building talking to a woman
in her early forties. She was still quite attractive despite having lived a
pretty hard life. The older woman was holding a beautiful, dark-haired two-
year old girl in her arms.

"I wish you didn't have to leave so soon," the older woman said.

"I know, Mom; that's the story of my life," Danielle said. The older woman
handed the little girl to Danielle.

"Go to Momma now," the older woman told the little girl.

"Did you have a good time with Grandma, Cutie?" Danielle asked the bright eyed
little girl.

"Oh, yes, Mommy," the little girl replied. She seemed as happy and as carefree
as any little girl should be. She hugged Danielle hard around the neck. "But
I'm glad you're back now, Mommy."

"Careful, Cutie, you'll hurt Mommy's neck with those big hugs."

"That's silly, Mommy. You're stronger than anybody."

"I have a feeling that might not be true for very much longer," Danielle told
her daughter. Danielle turned back to her mother. "Are you sure you don't need
anything, Mom."

"No, Sweetheart, the trust fund you set up for me is more than enough."

"Okay, then, say goodbye to Grandma, Cutie."

The little girl waved goodbye and said, "Bye-bye, Grandma."

"See you soon, Mom," Danielle told her mother.

"When have I heard that before?" her mother responded with due skepticism.
"Goodbye, Danielle. Goodbye, Jay."

As they walked down the hall Danielle said, "Guess what, Jay; Mommy has a
surprise for you."

"What, Mommy?"

"In nine months, you're going to have a new brother or sister," Danielle said.

"A half-brother or half-sister?" Jay asked.

"No," Danielle replied. "And whether it's a brother or a sister, we both have
to remember to be very loving and very gentle. But we have to be especially
gentle if it's a boy."

"I know, Mommy, because boys are weak."

"That's right, Cutie; boys are very weak."

Danielle lied. There was one person she loved more that Mr. Jenkins. Soon
there would be two.

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The end?

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