An Office Romance, by Scifinerdgrl Part 9

After his handball game, Brad felt more relaxed than he had in
weeks.  In the locker room, Brad  said to Jeff, "Thanks for
suggesting this extra game.  I thought I had that situation
solved but then..."

"Uh oh," Jeff said.  "What did you do?"

"It wasn't me -- it was her!  I set her up with a task force --
to get her out of my division -- and she asked if we would still
see each other."

"Maybe it was innocent," Jeff offered.

"Jeff," Brad looked at him knowingly.  "She had her hand on my
thigh.  If her boyfriend hadn't interrupted I don't know what
would have happened."

"That changes everything!" Jeff said enthusiastically.  "She's a
slut?"  Before Brad could object, Jeff continued, his vicarious
excitement building.  "In that case, go for it!  Her boyfriend is
right there and she's making passes at you?  No way are you going
to get in trouble here.  Have some fun while you can!"

"Jeff, I don't think..." Brad started to argue, wanting to defend
Monica.  He stopped when he realized he wasn't sure if Monica
*was* a slut.

"Listen, Brad..." Jeff put a hand on his shoulder.  "Sleeping
with a subordinate... Bad news!  Sleeping with a co-worker... Bad
news!  Sleeping with the office slut?  Don't give it a thought!" 
He slapped him on the back then continued dressing.  "She's not
going to sue you, and chances are, by the time anyone else finds
out, she'll have boinked everyone who could cause trouble for
you."  He shook his head then added, "You lucky dog...  You've
found yourself a risk-free piece of ass."

Brad wasn't sure he agreed with Jeff's assessment of the
situation, but he wanted to believe he was right.  He left the
gym resolved to stop fighting the inevitable.


Monica emerged from the rectory armed with books, files, and
pamphlets.  Joe bounded over to her and took them from her, then
leant over them and gave her a very familiar kiss.  "You had a
good talk with my brother?" he said, smiling.

"It was great," Monica nodded.  "He's a great guy ... a really
good person, Joe."

Sighing, Joe's eyes glistened as he searched her face for the
answer he wanted.  Monica smiled then turned toward the exit, Joe
following a step behind her.  It wasn't until they arrived at his
car that he saw what the books were:  exorcism books, not
Christian instruction.  After Monica had buckled her seat belt he
handed them to her, a questioning look on his face.

"Joe," she said with sympathy.  "I'm not changing my mind.  These
books are research -- for that task force I told you about."

They drove to her apartment in silence, each writing their
speeches.  Joe double-parked and let the engine run.  As he
turned in his seat, Monica unlatched her seatbelt and started to
open her door.  He grabbed her arm and looked deeply into her
eyes.  "Monica," he started.  "I think we both know the truth...
this isn't going to work out, is it?"

She shook her head slowly but didn't say anything.  He studied
her face as if to memorize it, then stroked her hair.  With a
catch in his voice, he said, "I guess this is goodbye, then." 
She nodded and leaned forward to meet his final kiss.  As they
parted each looked sadly into the other's eyes.

"Goodbye, Joe," she whispered with finality.

"Bye," he answered.


The sun was setting behind her as Monica sat at her desk reading
through Frank's books on exorcism.  Frank had confirmed some of
Monica's suspicions, and he promised to let her know if he heard
of anyone performing unauthorized exorcisms.  As she read, she
kept a running list of thoughts, ideas, clues to look for... and
she didn't notice the time passing, nor the footsteps in the
hallway.

A metallic scrape sent her flying to her feet.  When the door
flung open she was ready, her feet spread and her arms
outstretched and pointing her gun toward the doorway.  The
silhouetted figure put up his hands and said, "Monica... it's me,
Brad."

She let him approach, and as the overhead fixture lit his face
she relaxed and lowered her shoulder, then holstered her gun. 
"Brad!" she yelled.  "What are you doing picking my lock?!?!"

He held up a key for her inspection.  "Master key.  I'm your
supervisor, remember?  I can open all of the doors in this
hallway."

Monica sighed.  "What do you want," she said with irritation.

"I'm preparing for tomorrow's meeting," he said a little
nervously.  I need to look up a few cases..."

"Come on in," she said, ushering him in, and waving toward the
door.  He closed the door obediently and took a few steps
forward.

"I might ask you what *you're* doing here," he said.

"Just a little research," she nodded toward her desk.  "I picked
up some material on exorcism.

Brad picked up one of the books and thumbed through it
appraisingly.  "Frank Costello?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in
surprise.

"Joe's brother," she answered, grabbing the book from him and
putting it back on the pile.  "He's a priest."

"So..." Brad carefully feigned a casual interest.  "You and Joe
went to church together today?  Things are progressing nicely."

"We broke up," Monica announced.  "Happy?"

"Of course not," he said, genuine hurt in his voice.  He rubbed
his hand up and down her upper arm.  "It's always sad when..."

"Do you want to know why?" she asked accusingly.

"No, not really," he said, still stroking her compassionately. 
"What happened between you is none of my business.  I'm just
sorry you were hurt."

She put her hand out to his other hand, and he took it.  "I'm
sad, but more sad for him.  I'm not what he thought I was...  but
I already knew he wasn't the man for me."  She squeezed his hand. 
"He wasn't my type either."

Brad gulped.  "And what *is* your type?"

In answer to his question, Monica leaned forward, her lips
demanding to be kissed.  His lips obeyed.


Their first kiss was tentative, but it didn't take long for their
pent-up desire to express itself in a passionate kiss that melted
Monica's spine and made Brad weak in the knees.  As they came up
for air, Brad put his hands behind her head and drank in the
vision of her flushed face.

"Am I your type?" he asked breathlessly.

"Oh, yes," she sighed, bringing her lips to his for more.  His
lips were soft and warm, and they seemed to embrace her mouth,
moving in constantly evolving patterns that took her to higher
and higher planes of desire.  She couldn't help leaning into his
body, delighting in its warmth and suppleness.  She loved
everything he did to her -- did *for* her.  She'd never felt this
way before.

Brad followed as she backed herself toward her desk, and when she
jumped up onto it and wrapped her legs around him he pulled away. 
Her legs maintained their grip on his hips as he said, in a
strained voice, "Monica... we can't ... we shouldn't..."

"You're not my supervisor anymore," she flirted, pulling on his
tie.  He responded by smoothing his tie against his chest.

"I need to prepare for the meeting...." he said between gentle
kisses.  "Can you wait..." he looked at his watch.  "An hour?"

She smiled, thinking how long she'd waited for a kiss like that. 
All her life, she realized.  What was one more hour?  "Okay," she
said, her lips curled into a mock pout.  "I'll be waiting for
you."

She watched as he gathered his materials, his businesslike
demeanor convincing her to go back to work herself.  As he closed
the door he looked into her face once more, and she smiled with a
joy no other woman had ever shown for him.  "An hour," he
promised, then closed the door.


An hour later, Monica was engrossed in her studies when she heard
a tentative knock on the door.  She flew to the door and opened
it to find a smiling yet insecure Brad Follmer.  They stood
facing each other for a few awkward seconds until Monica stepped
backward to shut the door.  She leaned against the door and
smiled giddily at Brad.  "You came back!" she said excitedly.

"Of course," he whispered, reaching for her hand.  "I needed to
be sure I wasn't dreaming earlier."

Smiling, Monica grabbed his hand and pulled it around her waist. 
Brad ran his free hand along her jaw line, and when it reached
her chin he tilted her head upward.  Their lips joined in a
tentative kiss that deepened as they pulled each other closer. 
After several minutes of slow, sensuous probing, their mouths
separated and formed smiles that were mirror images of each
other.  "It was no dream?" Brad said finally.

"I'm not sure," Monica whispered.  "Reality's never been like
this before."

"No?" Brad seemed surprised.

Monica ran her hands over his chest, marveling at its subtle
geography.  "Nobody's ever kissed me like that," she blushed and
studied her hands as they continued roaming over his body.  "I
never knew..." she sighed.  "I never knew a kiss could be like
that."

Brad tilted her head upward and planted another soft sensuous
kiss on her waiting lips.  "Like that?" he asked softly.

She inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of his closeness. 
"Yes, like that," she sighed.

She's no slut, Brad realized suddenly.  "There's more where that
came from..." he said, then gave her a long, lingering kiss that
took her breath away.

When they came up for air she put her hands on his cheeks, taking
in the sight of his shining eyes.  "I hope so..."  Her thumbs
traced the outline of his lips, following their contour as he
smiled under them.  "Joe never had any idea..." she stopped when
she realized what she'd said.  The surprise in Brad's face urged
her to an explanation.  "He never knew that when I was with
him..." she blushed but felt an overwhelming need to tell Brad
the truth.  "When I was with him... I mean really *with* him... I
couldn't help wishing I was with you."

Her confession caused Brad's heart to skip a beat, and he pulled
her closer to him.  She responded by wrapping her arms around his
neck, and he nuzzled the hair over her ear.  "I was wishing the
same thing," he whispered.

And in that moment, Brad knew that this woman would be both his
salvation and his undoing.


He drove her home that night, but despite an hour of lingering,
sensuous kisses, she didn't invite him in, and he didn't suggest
it.  Monica thought of her sheets, where Joe had so recently
been.  Brad thought of his meeting, his first as a supervisor. 
It was all he could do to spend that hour finishing his
preparation; he knew he'd never pull it off if he spent the night
with her.  He was the one who started the good-bye process,
reminding her that they each had a stressful morning ahead.

Monica attended the meeting, her first and last in the division. 
Jacob Franklin, her new partner sat with her, giving her a
running commentary under his breath as Brad went through his
carefully prepared speech.  Despite frequent whispers of
"ass-kisser" and "spoiled brat" from both beside and behind her,
Monica thought it was an excellent speech.  She blushed when he
mentioned her name and said how sorry they were to be losing her
so soon.  She left halfway through to keep her appointment with
Williams, but couldn't resist the urge to turn around at the door
and gaze at the man who took her breath away.  He saw her,
stumbled over his words, then glued his eyes to his notes.  On
the way to Williams' office Jacob ran through a list of both Brad
and Mike's faults, which only served to make Monica love Brad
more.

She was disappointed to find Brad's office empty after her
meeting, and decided to get some lunch.  Janet was standing in
her usual place, smoking.  She greeted Monica and the two began
chatting.  Monica told Janet about her break-up with Joe, and
Janet's understanding demeanor made Monica want to tell her
everything else besides.  But she knew she couldn't.  Janet
noticed Monica's anxiety and said soothingly, "Don't worry,
honey.  The right man is out there somewhere.  It's a big city."

"Thank you, Janet," Monica sighed.  "I hope so."

"Monica, I heard about your transfer," Janet put a hand on
Monica's arm.  "You can still come by and talk to me.  Anytime."

Smiling both inwardly and outwardly, Monica answered, "Thank you. 
I might just take you up on that.  It's only been half a day and
already I miss our chats."

"Brad will be back with our lunches any minute.  We're working
through lunch today," Janet explained.  "But we can talk until he
shows up, anyway."

Monica brightened at the realization she could see Brad so soon,
and let Janet probe her on all aspects of her relationship with
Joe.  But when the subject turned to sex, Monica's stomach grew
queasy.  "Um, Janet," she said cautiously.  "Could I bum a
cigarette?"

After a few puffs Monica felt calmed.  Janet was surprised to
find Monica so comfortable with a cigarette.  "I bet Joe didn't
approve of that, either," Janet said knowingly.

Monica laughed.  "He's such a fitness nut..."  Brad's sudden
appearance behind Janet made Monica inhale sharply.  She quickly
threw the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.  "Hello,
Agent Follmer," she said with forced casualness.

"Agent Reyes," he nodded.  "Janet, they were out of prosciuto. 
I'm sorry."   He turned toward the door, indicating that Janet
should follow, then addressed Monica in a formal tone.  "Good
luck in your new assignment, Agent," he said, then disappeared
into the building, leaving Monica wondering whether she'd
imagined the night before.

At the end of the day, Monica returned to her office to find a
voice-mail from Brad.  "Hi Monica, it's Brad... Listen, when
we're at work, we have to be all-business, okay?  Stop by my
office when you're finished, and we can talk about it.  I let
Janet go home early."

Monica's heart was racing as she turned the knob on Brad's office
door, but all her doubts were erased as soon as she was inside. 
He grabbed her and kissed her passionately. "I was afraid you
wouldn't come," he whispered.

"I couldn't wait!" she groaned, her hands roaming over his back.

He cupped her jaw in his long slender hands and said, "We
shouldn't see each other during the day.  I'll never get any work
done."  He kissed her again, his lips growing softer and more
sensuous as her body danced in his hands.  As he ground into her,
he pushed her further and further back until she was up against
the wall.  She drew one knee up along the side of his leg as she
nuzzled his neck.  "Oh, Monica," he moaned.  "You're making me so
hot...."

"Good," she whispered into his ear.


He ground against her, and she could feel his pleasure growing as
she met his grinding motions with sensuous movements of her own. 
Her arms slipped under his jacket and pulled him even closer as
her hands wandered aimlessly across his back.  Following her lead
in this dance, Brad's hands roamed over her back.  Her ragged
breathing sent waves of hot desire over his face, then his neck,
then over his chest as she loosened his tie and unbuttoned his
top buttons.  As her head bowed to delight in the warmth under
his shirt he leaned over, whispering behind her head, "yes,
yes..."  She responded by undoing the rest of his shirt buttons,
until she came to the top of his trousers.  She looked up,
smiling into his eyes as she grabbed his belt buckle and quickly
freed its clasp.  He swayed backward with pleasure, and he felt
as if he might have collapsed if she hadn't been holding onto his
waistband.  She continued holding him up with one hand as the
other went lower, exploring layer by layer until she found what
she was looking for.  He groaned as she explored him, and with
what willpower he had left he moved his hands to her breasts,
caressing then pinching them through the silky fabric of her
blouse.  She let go of his manhood and breathed some breathy
sighs as his hands repeated for her what hers had done for him. 
She undid the clasp of her trousers, letting him explore whatever
he wanted... and he wanted to explore all of her.  His long
fingers expertly found places she never knew could feel good. 
Grinding against him, she let go of herself, letting him guide
her to heights she'd never imagined.  Panting, she leaned against
his shoulder, hugging herself to him for support as she
recovered.

When her breathing had slowed, Brad pulled her face to his.  He
offered her a slow, tender, affectionate kiss that was unlike any
kiss she'd experienced.  She pulled away and her dewy eyes looked
at him with wonder and gratitude.

"Like that?" Brad murmured, then leaned forward to nuzzle behind
her ear.  "There's more where that came from."  When she didn't
answer he looked into her eyes again.  "Are you one of those
women who can..." he paused when she seemed puzzled.  "How long
should I wait?  Minutes?  Hours? Till tomorrow?"   When she still
seemed not to understand he decided to be blunt.  "Monica, how
many more orgasms can you have?"

"I don't know," she breathed.  "I've never had even one like that
one!"

"No?" Brad was astonished.  She shook her head to confirm her
answer.  "Well then," he growled.  "Let's experiment..."  He
reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, then extracted a
linty, crinkly package.  "Want to put it on for me?" he asked as
he tore it open with his teeth.

Recognizing the object before her, Monica felt flushed and
excited.  "I wouldn't know how..."

"No?" Brad felt both guilty and honored to be the one to teach
Monica the fine art, leading her hand along his shaft as together
they unfurled the condom that had waited so optimistically for so
many years.  When the job was done, he smiled and kissed her
again, grinding his newly clothed member against her hot, moist
skin.  He slid his hands down her back, then cupped her asscheeks
and started to lift her off her feet, a low growl escaping his
throat as she giggled into his lips.  

She parted her legs as he lifted, wrapping them around his hips. 
She breathed heavily into the nape of his neck, alternating
breathy moans with light kisses.  She could feel him seeking
entrance and wiggled to help, when suddenly she heard him utter a
low, frustrated, "Damn!"

He exhaled and lowered her to her feet, then repeated, "Damn."

"What's wrong?" she asked, her frustration equal to his.

"The condom broke," he muttered.

Just then they heard the door open.



Janet hurriedly closed the door, and by the time Brad opened it
she had disappeared.  He slammed it shut, then turned the lock. 
"Damn," he muttered.

Monica came up behind him, and put her arms around his waist. 
Instinctively, he turned and embraced her tenderly.  "I hope this
wasn't a mistake," he said thoughtfully, looking over her
shoulder, taking in the patriotic accoutrements of his position. 
Her arms shifted, somehow finding just the right way to comfort
him.  He buried his face in her hair and sighed.  "No," he
whispered.  "This is no mistake."

She grinned contentedly, her sigh offering him even more comfort. 
"We just need to lock the door," she whispered back.  He laughed
in spite of himself and pulled away to drink in her serene face.

"Good thinking, Agent," he said, his eyes sparkling with
admiration.  "Because now that I've found you, I can't imagine
giving you up."  He took her head in his hands and kissed her,
with passionate tenderness that astonished her.  She marveled how
each kiss from him seemed different, and how each one
communicated such depth of feeling.  She would never have guessed
he could be so passionate, and if not for the power of her own
feelings she would have felt overwhelmed.

This time it was her turn to pull away and gaze lovingly at him. 
"I don't want to give you up either," she said breathily.  She
caressed his cheek, and he leaned into her hand.  "I want to take
you home with me and never leave the house."

He laughed.  "Then maybe we should go to my place."  Pulling her
to him, he let her feel his eagerness for her then added, "We'll
need to get out occasionally to stock up on condoms."


Monica was surprised by the appearance of Brad's apartment.  It
was almost as small as hers, furnished with pieces that had seen
better days, and not very neat.  It was so different from the
clean, modern efficiency of his office.  She stood behind him as
he locked the door, eyeing the shabby sofa.

After locking the door, Brad set his keys on a small table then
put his arm around Monica's waist.  "It's not much, I know," he
said, following the direction of her eyes.  "That sofa came from
Goodwill... but it's sturdy.  It'll last forever."  He spun her
around to face him then took her face in his long hands.  "I look
for quality....  always," he said, looking deeply into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she stammered.  "I didn't mean..."  She could tell
he didn't want an apology, but she continued anyway.  "I just
expected something more... modern."  She smiled weakly, hoping he
wasn't hurt.  He was.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and
said impishly, "I hope your bed is sturdy."

"There's one way to find out," he smiled.  He kissed her
hungrily, letting his hands roam over her back.  She responded by
pulling at his lapel, then pulling off his suit jacket, keeping
her lips on his.  She threw the jacket on the floor then pulled
him to her.  He suddenly pulled away, then bent to pick up the
jacket.  "Sorry," he said as he hung the jacket over the back of
a chair.  "This is my best suit."  He pulled off his pants and
gently smoothed them before draping them over another chair.

He stood before her in his socks and underwear, trying to look
sexy.  Monica barely suppressed a laugh. But soon he was wrapped
around her, his cotton undershirt rubbing against her cheek, then
against her skin as her blouse fell to the floor.  Leaving a
puddle of clothing at their feet, they explored each others'
bodies with caresses and kisses that made each of them gasp. 
Brad cupped one of Monica's breasts in his hands, and leaning
forward, tongued a line from her nipple to her collarbone, then
traced a path of light kisses that finished behind her ear.  She
shivered in his hands and pulled herself closer to him.  "Cold?"
he whispered into her ear.  She nodded, and he responded by
rubbing his hands up and down her arms.  "C'mon," he reached for
a hand.  "Let's go to bed."


Her hand in his, Monica eagerly followed Brad through the bedroom
door.  A dim pink light filtered up from the street, casting long
dark shadows onto the ceiling.  Brad pulled her toward the bed
and caressed her face between soft, tender kisses.  "You're so
beautiful," he whispered huskily.  "Do you have any idea what you
do to me?"

She pushed her hips toward his, and he laughed into her mouth as
his eagerness felt the soft flesh of her abdomen.  "Yes, I guess
you do," he answered himself.  She reached for his cock and
stroked it gently, then more firmly as she felt him pressing into
her.  He groaned into her ear and started humping into her hand. 
"You're driving me crazy," he growled, then quickly pulled away
from her.

"I thought you liked it?" Monica said innocently.

"Too much," he gently pushed her back toward the bed.  "I want to
drive you crazy first," he grinned, and in the dim light his face
took on a sinister cast.

"Let's turn the lights on," suggested Monica, resisting his
efforts to lay her down.  "I want to see everything.  I want to
look into your eyes."

At his hesitation she struggled weakly to raise herself up.  He
sat on the edge of the bed, his knees turned toward her, and bent
to kiss her.  "Why?  Isn't this much more sensuous?"

"Please?" she begged, as his dark features started to frighten
her.

Sighing, he leaned toward the bedside lamp and turned it on.  The
glare upset his eyes, and he fiddled with the shade for a few
moments until casting the light against a wall and mirror. 
"How's that?" he turned toward her.

She was sitting up in bed, one hand on his thigh, her eyes
drinking in the sights around her before answering his.  His
bedroom was even shabbier than his living room, and except for
the immaculately neat closet visible through an open door, it
looked both dingy and a little messy.  She tried to hide her
disappointment, but his entire being was focused on her happiness
and pleasure.  His ability to read every nuance of facial
expressions and body language was renowned in the FBI, and when
it came to her it verged on ESP.  "It's not much, I know... but
by New York standards..."

"I understand," she smiled.  "I was apartment-hunting only a few
weeks ago."  She took his face in her hands and drew it to her,
experiencing for the first time a hint of hesitation in his
affection.  She kissed him tenderly, with a softness that almost
erased Brad's feelings of shame for arousing her pity.  As they
kissed she leaned back, and he crawled forward, finally laying on
top of her, his hurt pride forgotten.

He pulled away and raised himself up in a sensual push-up.  "You
still want to watch?"  She nodded and breathed deeply as he
trailed light kisses down her neck.  Watching everything he did,
Monica spread her arms out and grabbed the bedcovers.  As he
started to lick and fondle her nipples, she writhed in pleasure,
trying not to notice the nubbly pills covering the bedspread.  He
was an expert lover, bringing her almost to the brink of orgasm
as his tongue worked over one nipple and his fingers caressed the
other.  She gasped when he moved his mouth to the other nipple,
the canyon between her legs suddenly gushing with desire. 
Instinctively, she parted her legs and drew them up alongside
his, offering him entrance to her core.

Accepting her invitation, Brad slowly explored every inch of her
body on the way to his destination.  His hands found the ticklish
place just below her ribcage; his mouth circled her navel as her
chest heaved above him; keeping his eyes open, he drank in every
detail, every mole and muscle, until he found the curly hairs
that exuded a musky warmth.  Monica felt her insides melt, as the
sex act she'd only read about seemed imminent for her.  "Oh...
Brad..." she sighed involuntarily.  "Yessssss..."  He slowly
teased her opening, first with his fingers, then his lips, then
finally running his tongue over all her hills and valleys.  Her
twitches, sighs, and groans were all the navigation he needed as
he drove her to an orgasm that threatened to suffocate both of
them.  He was sure he was bruised where her heels had knocked
against his back, but he considered it a small price to pay for
the satisfaction of bringing satisfaction to her.

As he crawled upwards over her body, she looked down with a
beatific glow that made him smile with pride.  Seeing his face
slathered with her silky juices, his shiny lips breaking into a
broad smile, made Monica smile herself.  But as his lips reached
for hers she instinctively turned away, forcing his cheek to rub
against hers, leaving a sticky streak from her mouth to her ear. 
He hummed into her ear, rubbing his face into her hair.  "Don't
like that?" he whispered.  "No problem..."  He pulled away and
faced her, his hands stroking her hair back from each temple. 
"Just let me know..." he said.  "You can tell me anything."  She
nodded faintly.  "Want me to wash my face?" he added, his
eyebrows scrunching his forehead in expectation of an answer.  A
slight grimace was all the answer he needed.  "Be right back," he
said cheerfully, and bounded toward the bathroom.

While she waited Monica basked in the afterglow of her heavenly
climax, but couldn't help noticing the crooked drawer of his
dresser and the crack in his mirror.  She closed her eyes and
breathed deeply, willing herself to forget the dissonance between
the Brad she worked with and the Brad she was with now.  "Back in
a bit," she heard him say as he shuffled toward the living room. 
She sighed.  He was so cheerful...

He returned with the package of condoms and jumped into bed next
to her.  "You're not tired yet, are you?" he asked solicitously.

"No," she said, then realized he must have read something in her
face.  "No," she repeated more forcefully, grabbing him around
the waist.

"Good," he growled, wrapping his arms around her.  "Because I
have a few ideas..."  

She kissed him, taking him by surprise.  He marveled that such an
inexperienced woman could be so eager, bold and passionate.  He
pulled her with him as he reached for the condoms, then placed
one in her hand.

Within minutes his sheathed member was teasing her swollen labia,
moving in sensuous circles, the tip rubbing against her clit at
each pass.  She writhed under him, eventually succeeding in
clasping his cock in the strong walls of her vagina.  He gasped
then pushed in slowly, feeling her accepting him as her legs
wrapped around him.  When he was fully inside her he paused and
sighed into her ear, "My god, Monica... you're perfect..."  It
felt so natural, so right for him to be with her.  He raised
himself up a few inches, keeping his mouth near her ear and
whispering something that might have come out as words in another
setting.  He let one hand slide over her shoulder down to a
breast, palming her nipple in a gentle circle.  "We are so
perfect together," his husky voice huffed into her ear.

She smiled as he uttered these words, feeling the same sentiment,
as Brad's stiff cock slid into her slippery channel.  He filled
her completely, and as his hairs tangled with hers she felt an
almost spiritual union with this man.  Wordlessly she started to
urge him on, and he took his cue, sliding in and out, in and
out... slowly, as if to memorize every moment of the journey. She
groaned softly as he continued to control their pace, speeding
almost imperceptibly, lingering over each sensation.  Gradually,
without her realizing it, her tension built, opening a new realm
of feelings, both physical and spiritual.

Acknowledging his mastery, she let him take control.  His grunts,
sighs, and, eventually, shouts, urged her on to her own noisy
expressions of pleasure, until eventually she erupted in a howl
that she only later realized was her own.  She felt her body fall
away from her, as her mind exploded into the vastness of the
universe, seeing only light, hearing only silence, feeling only
electricity...

Sensing her final release, Brad took his mind off tennis and gave
himself over to his own release.  With a loud groan he filled the
condom to overflowing, then collapsed on top of Monica's
shuddering body.  He buried his face in the space between her
neck and his pillow, and waited for his body to remember itself. 
His eyes squeezed shut as his breath struggled to escape in heavy
pants.  With a final sigh he relaxed into her fragrant softness,
struggling to return to the real world.  He rubbed his face up,
down, and around her hair for several seconds before realizing
why -- his cheeks were wet with tears.  His pride returned, and
he buried himself even deeper into the protection of her hair,
even as the tears continued to flow.  Instinctively, he snaked
his arms under her and hugged her to him tightly.

Monica responded by wrapping her arms around his back, but within
a few moments felt herself struggling to breathe.  "Brad," she
gasped.  "You're too heavy -- I can't breathe."

Brad sighed and rolled to his side.  He knew too well the gravity
of what they'd just done.