Unnamed Ring Story (#3)    Unnamed Ring Story (#3) by Courser

 Author's disclaimer: All characters and concepts are property of Alliance
Communications. No infringement is intended, so please don't sue me.

 Author's notes: Writing these stories has been a blast. In theory, I have
one more to do, but I'll need just a little more time.

  

 Fraser found himself outside the door of the lingerie shop he and Ray had
visited earlier in the week. He wasn't entirely sure what had brought him
back here, now that Joey Paducci's future was secure. Well, that wasn't
entirely honest, he had an idea of what had led him here, but it wasn't
something he cared to think about, much less admit. The proprietress was
quite lovely and her manner could be best described as inviting. She
hadn't been pushy or forward, but her eyes had shone with frank interest.
When she'd unabashedly opened her blouse to show him Joey's handiwork, Ben
had been drawn to the tasteful display of cleavage. While the stitching
had been intricate and precise, he also taken the time to fully appreciate
the promise of what the leatherwork had contained. Ray's apparent surprise
of Fraser's close examination of the wares had been amusing. 

 Ben felt a slight blush rise to his cheeks at the memory and checked his
watch. Perfect. The shop would be closing in about 15 minutes and he hoped
to ask the owner out for coffee. While he wanted to remain circumspect,
dating was something he'd always wanted to try. Now that he was stationed
in a large metropolis, his opportunities were staggering. So staggering,
in fact, that it was stupefying. He found it difficult however, to
overcome his long-standing practice of keeping women at arm's length. This
woman was unlike so many others. While he was uncertain of where this
would lead, he felt he really needed to explore the possibilities. 

 It had been so long since he'd had the pleasure of a woman's company for
an evening. Ms. King hardly counted as a date. While he'd entertained a
spark of hope that it might turn into something more, he'd known from the
start that she wanted information from him rather than companionship. Ben
hoped that it wasn't sheer desperation that had led him here, but it was
far easier to be alone in the vast wilderness than here in the city,
surrounded by happy couples. Even unhappy couples, for that matter. His
neighbors, the Mondragons, argued often and passionately, but they also
reconciled in an equally passionate manner. The sounds of their lovemaking
frequently echoed through the halls of the old building, making him even
more conscious of his loneliness. 

 Bells tinkled as he opened the door. A voice from the back told him she'd
be out in a minute and Fraser was relieved that it was the same voice he'd
heard a few days earlier. He looked around again at the merchandise on
display and tried not to imagine her wearing such things. It was too
distracting. Soft music played in the background and the air was fragrant
with the scent of lavender. While trying to figure out a particularly
intricate item he heard her greeting: 

 "Constable, how nice to see you again!" she sounded genuinely pleased by
his visit. 

 "Yes, ma'am. How are you today?" he managed. 

 Her wavy dark hair was as beautiful as he remembered and her silky, blue
blouse showed her athletic figure to good advantage. 

 "I'm good. Did you and the detective find Joey? Is he all right?" The
woman rearranged some clothing on a display. 

 "Yes, um, I believe that we came to an arrangement with Mr. Zuko." Ben
smoothed an eyebrow with his thumbnail. 

 "Hmm, looks like that 'arrangement' involved some persuasion," she said,
indicating the fading bruises on his face. 

 "Yes, well, Mr. Zuko wasn't terribly agreeable at first," Ben answered,
embarrassed since he'd forgotten all about them. 

 He followed her towards the display case at the front of the store. 

 "Does it hurt?" she asked over her shoulder. 

 "Not anymore, Miss . . . I'm sorry, I don't believe I ever got your
name." 

 "Sara, Constable Frasier wasn't it?" she held out her hand and he took
it. 

 "Fraser, ma'am. Benton . . . or, er . . . Ben," he held her hand and
looked into clear hazel eyes. 

 "Well, Ben, what brings you to my door again? Are you in the market for
something for a special lady?" her smile had lost none of its wattage. 

 "Uh, no. I was wondering, well hoping, actually, that you, uh, might be
free for coffee. Or tea," he licked his lower lip, "or . . . er. . .
perhaps you might like something to eat." 

 Not for the first time he wished he was more practiced at this. 

 Her smile widened, showing even white teeth and she looked as if she
might tease him, then reconsidered, "I'd love to . . .um, Ben. Just let me
finish closing and we can go, all right?" 

 Ben smiled back, "Yes, of course, I'll just, ahem, wait . . . here." He
moved back a step into a modified parade rest. 

 Sara gave him a questioning look and with a concentrated effort he tried
to assume less rigid position. When she looked to her cash drawer, he
dropped his head in a gesture of defeat. His formal demeanor had stood him
in good stead during his career as an officer, but he found it difficult
to transition to a more casual social situation. He hoped it would become
easier as he became more acquainted with her. His eyes fell onto the glass
case and decided that its contents would provide ample distraction. 

 Most of the items were more or less recognizable. Frilly bras were placed
next to improbable garter belts and panties that seemed to be missing
crucial parts. Ben quickly averted his gaze from the provocative garments
only to gaze upon the specialty condoms. Some claimed to be flavored,
while others sported neon colors and glow in the dark capabilities. He
found these enough of a curiosity to avoid mortification. A sign above
this collection proclaimed "For Him." Not limited to the condoms, the
display included some very abbreviated men's briefs in silky fabrics and
loud colors and patterns, some with catchy phrases on them. Fraser
couldn't think of anything worse than to be found dead wearing such an
item. 

 Sara watched him out of the corner of her eye, wondering which objects
would capture his interest. Apparently he didn't get out much, but she
found his disorientation rather charming. 

 Something off in the corner of the case caught his eye. Rings, far too
large to be worn on the hand, overlapped each other in an arrangement
reminiscent of the Olympic rings. Some seemed to be plastic, others
leather and rubber, but they were all about the same diameter of about two
inches, give or take. A few had a little knob or two placed on the edge.
He felt his face begin to flush as he suddenly recognized their purpose. 

 Sara noticed his interest. "Anything I can get for you?" 

 Fraser straightened up so fast she thought she heard his spine snap. 

 "No, no, just, er, looking, thank you," he stuttered, then twisted his
neck to the side. 

 This time Sara was positive she heard a pop. 

 "You sure?" she asked again, wishing he'd relax just a bit. 

 Sara could only imagine what this buttoned up Mountie would be like in a
more intimate setting. She hoped she'd get a chance to find out, but he
looked as if he might bolt if she moved too quickly. Everything about this
man was precise, from the knot in his tie to the shine on his shoes. 

 Ben watched her as she closed up for the day. Her movements were fluid
and graceful, the untamed hair inviting his fingers to entwine in the
waves. Her fingers were long, nails groomed to a moderate length and
polished with pale pink lacquer that matched her lipstick. He imagined how
those lips would feel against his. Would she be assertive in deepening the
kiss, taking from him what she desired? It surprised him to realize that
such an approach wouldn't be entirely unwelcome. Or would she be more
passive, allowing him to explore her, finding her secrets in his own time.
This too was an enticing possibility. He gave himself a mental shake. This
train of thought was unseemly. She wasn't some object to be used for his
entertainment. Still, his self-reproach didn't keep him from appreciating
her virtues. 

 "I'm just about finished here, Ben, would you get my jacket please?" Sara
asked as she closed up the cash drawer. 

 "Of course," he returned from his reverie with a questioning look and she
indicated an alcove near the door. 

 As Fraser retrieved the soft, black leather jacket, Sara slipped one of
the rings into her pocket. 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained,' she thought
as she smiled at him. 

 Fraser offered her his arm after Sara locked up and they walked to a
nearby caf. 

 Several hours passed and considerably more than coffee, as well. They'd
stayed on for a light supper and chatted amicably about the neighborhood,
Chicago and the Northwest Territories. While Sara was fascinated with
Ben's stories of the arctic, Fraser was equally interested in her stories
of spending her childhood summers in northern Wisconsin. Much to his
delight, Sara had a deep appreciation of nature. 

 Her apartment wasn't far from the restaurant and Ben walked her home by
the light of the full moon. A chilly breeze off the lake made Sara shiver
and he put his arm around her to ward it off. He realized that it was a
bit forward, for him anyway, but she welcomed his touch. 

 "You know, some believe that a full moon makes people a little crazy. Do
you think that's true?" Sara asked glancing up at it, taking in his
shadowed features as well. 

 "Well, the ancient Romans believed so. In fact, the word, lunacy, comes
from the Latin word for the moon, Luna. In the far north, the moon can't
be seen for months at a time, so it can be said that some people certainly
behave differently in its presence. Of course, then it's dark for months
as well, so that's hardly a fair sampling." Ben looked down into her face,
a trace of a smile on her lips. Perhaps that wasn't the answer she was
looking for. 

 Clearing his throat, he tried again, "Emergency personnel have often
noted, though it's purely anecdotal, that they seem to be busier during a
full moon. Scientific study of hospital admissions and crime statistics
don't seem to support their observations, but the belief persists." He
looked at her again, and let out a small sigh. He still hadn't answered
her question of what he believed. 

 "I believe that rational people sometimes need a way to explain
irrational behavior. The moon is a convenient scapegoat. Irrational people
usually don't feel the need to explain their behavior at all." 

 As they walked on, Fraser felt completely defeated for the second time in
one evening. He suspected she was looking for a more romantic answer and
he'd given her a scientific treatise. If he lived to be a hundred, he
wasn't sure he'd ever get the hang of social banter. 

 As they neared her building, Sara hadn't been disappointed in his
answers, really. Was he really this clueless or was it an act to disarm
her? Well, clueless probably wasn't quite right. His manners were
impeccable and his answers were very logical and precise. Perhaps she
needed to be more direct. 

 "So, Ben, which are you? Rational or irrational?" 

 "Hmm. What do you think, Sara?" He answered back, a bit of a sparkle in
his eyes. 

 "Uhhhh, rational. But I'm sure you have your irrational moments." 

 "You're quite correct, but what makes you say so? 

 They'd reached her door and she took a moment to get her keys before
answering. 

 "Well, I think everyone has their impulsive moments. Some more than
others. If they're normal, that is. You seem pretty normal to me." 

 "Thank you, Sara," a small smile graced his lips, but his eyes held just
a hint of sadness. 

 Sara opened the door and gestured him inside, but Ben hung back,
venturing no further than the threshold. 

 "Please, come in. Would you like a nightcap?" 

 "No, thank you," looking at his shoes, then to the side, "ah, it's late,
I should . . ." 

 "How about a cup of tea, then?" she quickly interjected, "Please, I'd
like to finish our conversation." 

 Ben now met her eyes directly, his voice softer and deeper than their
earlier banter, "All right." 

 "Then why don't you have a seat and I'll just get the tea." 

 He finally crossed the threshold and Sara led him to the loveseat, then
disappeared into the next room. 

 Fraser sat down, a bit rigidly at first, then made an effort to affect a
more relaxed posture. Easing himself back, resting his hands on his
thighs, and tried to collect his thoughts. He had really intended to see
Sara to her door and go home. But she'd moved imperceptibly closer when
making her second request and he'd caught her scent. Not simply the floral
fragrance of her perfume, but the subtle musk of her skin and hair. Ben
had surprised even himself with his answer. But what would happen now?
Tea, certainly, but . . .was he prepared for more? He would just have to
wait and see. 

 In the kitchen, Sara put the kettle on to boil and thought about Ben's
quick acceptance of her invitation, while she prepared the pot and cups.
Most men hang around the door waiting for an invitation, but he while was
quite prepared to leave, he'd quickly agreed to a cup of tea. Had the
suggestion of alcohol put him off? Or was he merely displaying more of
those perfect manners? The speed and quiet intensity of his answer had
given her a little shiver of delight. For the first time she had gotten a
tiny glimpse of the passion that may lurk beneath the controlled exterior.


 Sara rejoined Ben in the living room until the kettle whistled. 

 "It'll be a few minutes 'til the water boils, so where were we?" 

 "Irrational impulses, I believe," Ben answered quickly, angling his body
to face her as she joined him on the couch. 

 "Yes, that's right. I'm sure you have your moments, we all do," she
leaned towards him. 

 "Most definitely - Ray, Detective Vecchio, who you've met, would agree
with you," Ben offered. 

 Her scent drifted to him again and he noted that both his respiration and
heart rate increased in response. It was having an unmistakably erotic
effect on him. Her distinctly feminine musk underlay the perfume, soaps
and lotions she'd used throughout the day. Not to mention the teasing
glimpse of cleavage revealed when she leaned toward him. 

 "He would, huh? I remember him, snappy dresser, right?" 

 "Yes, he would. And yes, he takes pride in his appearance. I'm afraid
that my impulsive manner in law enforcement occasionally causes him
consternation." He felt safer sticking to his more professional incidents.


 The kettle whistled and Sara excused herself to get the tea while Ben
concentrated on the simple but elegant furnishings of the apartment. A
television was centered on a table directly across from the sofa, a low
coffee table sitting squarely in the remaining space. A few magazines and
carved boxes shared the tabletop along with a potted plant. The dominant
colors were deep forest greens and browns. Very . . .restful, he thought,
though 'restful' didn't quite describe his mood. 

 Sara returned with teapot and cups on a tray, placing it on the table as
she reseated herself. Ben was certain that she sat just a bit closer this
time. Brushing her arm against his knee, she poured the tea and handed him
a cup, finally straightening after pouring her own. 

 "Very nice, thank you. A Ceylon blend?" he asked. 

 "Yeah, you definitely know your tea," Sara smiled, "but I guess that
comes with the territory, huh?" 

 "Territory?" he was momentarily puzzled, but then understood, "Oh you
mean being Canadian." 

 "Mmm hmm," sipping her own tea. 

 Sara leaned near to him again to set her cup down, bringing them in close
proximity again. Ben couldn't resist reaching out to touch her hair as it
swung near his face, engulfing him in that intoxicating scent. She tilted
his face toward him at the contact and read the uncertainty in his eyes.
He seemed frozen in place, his eyes searching hers as if seeking an answer
there. She felt pulled in, drawn as if by magnetism to him, feeling his
breath on her mouth. What was he waiting for? 

 "It's ok . . .really," she whispered. 

 "Yeah," his eyes drifted over her face. 

 "Yes, please . . ." 

 Ben finally traveled the final distance and brushed his lips against hers
in the gentlest of kisses. Sara froze, not wanting to spoil the moment,
feeling herself respond to him. Desire ignited quickly in her belly, but
she felt no need to rush, holding steady under his ministrations. His kiss
was almost hesitant as he threaded his free hand into her hair. 

 Sara moaned quietly in her throat and Ben pulled back and searched her
eyes again. She took the forgotten teacup from him and placing it on the
table, put her hand on his shoulder encouraging him to continue. His lips
plucked at hers, taking them between his own. She felt a warm rough palm
on her cheek, and after what seemed an eternity, she felt his tongue sweep
over her lower lip. Sara parted hers, allowing him entrance and he
accepted the invitation. She inhaled sharply at the sensation of warm
velvet caressing her teeth and palate, releasing the breath on a moan. Ben
pulled away only enough to exhale his own held breath and it whispered
across her lips in its escape. It added yet another dimension to the
sensations suffusing her senses. He smelled like leather, soap and hair
dressing, clean and somehow . . . wild. There was an untamed quality to
his kisses that called to her own primal spirit. 

 Sara buried her fingers in his hair, sucked on his tongue and a groan
emerged from somewhere deep in Ben's chest. She felt her nipples stiffen
in response, the tingle continuing down her arms until her hands tightened
in his hair. His hand dropped from her hair to her knee, just skimming the
hose covered flesh, while the other slipped around the back of her neck,
pulling her closer. 

 Sara dropped her jaw and her tongue took its turn in his mouth, slipping
over and around the sharp surfaces of his teeth. He trembled and clutched
her tighter, hand slipping under her short skirt, where his fingers
encountered the bare skin of her thigh above the top of her stockings. He
massaged the muscles on either side of the slender column of her neck and
he fell back against the cushions, bringing her with him. 

 Pressed against the solid expanse of Ben's chest, his fingers grazed the
back of her thigh and snagged briefly on a garter as it was withdrawn.
Before she could protest the loss, the hand rested on her hip, slowly
stroking up her side. 

 Sara's kisses were driving him mad. Passion and need, so long locked away
behind duty and honor, had awakened with surprising force, demanding
release. Ben both welcomed and feared the powerful arousal that was
growing within him. He desperately wanted to lose himself in her, if only
for a few hours, but feared what that said about him as a human being.
Almost of its own volition, his hand moved from her waist to her breast,
encased in fine silk. Sara shifted to the side, allowing him to encircle
it with his broad hand. He felt the sharp peak of her nipple beneath his
thumb and he circled it through her light clothing. 

 Sara pulled away to moan and he moved his mouth to her throat. With
tongue and teeth, he traced the contours, inciting her further and she
arched into his touch. Ben barely noticed as Sara loosened his tie and
unbuttoned his shirt collar, but his body reacted strongly to her teeth
and lips on his neck. He gasped at the pleasure of her mouth on him and
knew that he was lost. Dragging his hands from her body, he hastily
removed his Sam Browne, pulling it free and dropping it to the floor, soon
followed by his jacket. Sara made short work of his shirt as he unbuttoned
her blouse. 

 Ben froze after unfastening the last button of Sara's blouse, fear
warring with passion in his eyes. Wordlessly, she took his hand and placed
it under her blouse, just above her left breast. She hoped it would give
him the encouragement he seemed to need. A long moment passed, Ben looking
from his hand to her face, before he shifted towards her until she
partially reclined on the sofa, his other hand supporting her back. 

 Claiming her mouth again, Ben caressed the bare skin of her chest, side
and belly. Every nerve alive with his touch, she skimmed the shirt from
his shoulders and tugged the undershirt out of his trousers, seeking out
the warm skin beneath. Sara's arousal climbed to another level pressed
into the cushions by his lower body, the wool slacks a bit prickly where
Ben's knee rested between her thighs. She rubbed her legs against his to
assuage the itch developing both from arousal and contact with the fabric.


 Ben's normal reticence evaporated under the influence of her body. She
was obviously quite comfortable with this type of activity and her
confidence lent him the fortitude to see it through to its logical
conclusion. Freed of his normal constraints, he reached around to her back
and released the hooks of her bra, trailing his hand back to cup a breast
in his hand. 

 Breaking the kiss to look down at her, he pulled the bra away. 

 "Beautiful," he breathed, gazing at her breasts. 

 Golden tan gave way to pale skin in a triangular shape. A dusky nipple,
puckered to a hard point, was perfectly framed in the center. He circled
it with his thumb, then brushed across it and Sara gasped in pleasure.
Dropping his head, he drew his tongue across the nub, then blew on it,
pleased to see it peak even further before taking it fully into his mouth
and drawing gently. Its owner groaned and lifted her hips toward his in an
unmistakable gesture of longing. 

 In some small part of his mind, Ben marveled at natural simplicity and
beauty of making love. Now fully involved in the act, he took pleasure in
the changes in his own body, making him a little light-headed. His
breathing and heart rate were both elevated and he could feel the heat of
a flush on his skin. Sara's hands on his back and sides had instigated a
definite stirring in his groin and when she applied her nails, he felt his
more primitive nature come alive and a low growl emerged from his throat. 

 One of his hands had found its way under her skirt and moved from
caressing her hip to the apex of her thighs, covered in silky fabric.
Tearing himself away from her breasts he claimed her mouth in a deep kiss
and his fingers found their way under her panties to her sex, soft and
wet. He was reminded of something Innusiq had told him when they were both
curious teenagers; 'Men have hard bits and women have soft bits, Ben,'
he'd said, though neither had been quite sure of exactly what that had
meant. 

 Ben took a long moment to acquaint himself with the landscape, tracing
her with his fingertips. Using a feather-light touch, he found the tiny
bundle of nerves and brushed over it several times, rendering Sara quite
breathless, her body reacting to each stroke as she moaned his name.
Changing his position, he looked down into her face as he gently pushed a
finger into her welcoming warmth, soon followed by a second. He was almost
lost when she smiled at him as she clasped at his fingers. Stroking her
clitoris with his thumb produced an even stronger response and she pressed
down into his hand as her back arched, her eyes closing as she cried out
in pleasure. 

 Slowly withdrawing his hand, he was taken by surprise when she suddenly
reversed their positions. Sara sat up and straddled his thighs as she
stripped off his undershirt and unfastened his trousers, roughly pulling
them to his thighs. Pushing him back, she lowered herself over him,
breasts grazing his chest, and put her mouth to his neck. Ben marveled
that she seemed to find every sensitive spot, licking behind his ear,
using her teeth on his shoulders and collarbone while his penis throbbed
under her. Every swipe of her tongue and teeth brought forth a
corresponding rush of blood to his rigid organ and ragged moans from his
throat. 

 Slowly Sara worked her way down his chest, nibbling at his nipples along
the way, until she reached the elastic of his starched boxers. She was
momentarily amused but quickly distracted by the shape of what they
contained. Tracing his shape through the cotton, she was pleased at his
"Mmmm . . . yesssss," when she flicked her fingers over the head. 

 Wondering if this straight-laced, starched Canadian had ever had a decent
blow-job, Sara decided to give it her very best effort. Obligingly, Ben
lifted his hips when she began to remove his shorts and pushed them to his
knees along with the trousers. Sliding back a bit, she cupped his
testicles as she appraised his manhood. Nicely sized and well-formed, his
cock rose proudly from a nest of dark chocolate curls. When she squeezed
the shaft, the dark red head swelled and she smiled when she realized he
was uncircumcised. She'd always had a thing for uncut men and
experimentally sliding the foreskin over the head, she was rewarded with a
sharp gasp. 

 Bending down, she slid her tongue from base to tip on the underside and
Ben arched off the sofa with an "Oh God, Sara!" She wrapped her lips
around him and took him in as deeply as she could. Since he wasn't overly
large she could take most of him in easily. Looking up, she saw he was
watching her, mouth open, eyes slightly glazed. She stroked him several
times with her mouth, paying special attention to the sensitive area
beneath the head and he licked his lips as he moaned and closed his eyes. 

 Ben had never felt anything quite this wonderful in his life. Long ago
someone had attempted to please him this way, but they had been quite
young and he'd thought the act demeaning and subservient and stopped her.
To the contrary, Sara seemed to be enjoying herself immensely and he
realized that it was he who was subservient in this instance, and she the
one in control. Sara skillfully brought him to a fever pitch, then cooled
him by judicious use of her teeth on the shaft, gently squeezing to give
him an entirely different type of stimulation, but equally pleasurable. 

 Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, she shifted her weight
and stood to remove the last of her clothing, retrieving the cock ring at
the last moment. Almost as an afterthought, she pulled off Ben's shoes,
socks, trousers and shorts, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Opening
one of the carved boxes on the coffee table she withdrew a small square
packet. Hiding the cock ring behind the condom packet she regained her
position on his thighs. She tore it open and Ben closed his eyes, his head
falling back as she applied it. His eyes flew open again, though, at the
sensation of something tightening at the base of his penis. Looking down
he was surprised to find one of the rings from the display case
constricting him, a bright blue bead at the top, tails trailing out. 

 "Oh! Dear! . . ." was all he could bring himself to say. 

 "Shhh, Ben, it's ok, you'll see," Sara soothed as she stroked him through
the latex. 

 He couldn't form any concrete objection and his primal spirit was surging
again with arousal so he acquiesced as Sara sunk down onto his engorged
penis. She took him only shallowly at first and the sensation was intense,
Ben sucking in deep breaths, before she took him in completely. Slowly,
she began rocking back and forth on him and he looked down to see that the
orientation of the bead wasn't random. Watching her, Ben understood that
she was stimulating herself with it and he felt the pressure in his penis
grow again. Sara put her hands on his chest to balance herself and he
steadied her with his hands on her hips as she started to move on him in
earnest. 

 He was soon lost in the feeling of her muscles around him. Stimulated as
she was, there was a constant rhythm of tightened muscles. Suspended in a
state of near-orgasm, he very nearly exploded when Sara's strong climax
took her. Shaking and loud cries accompanied her release and he waited
until the contractions had leveled off before holding her tightly to him
and reversing their positions. 

 Sara's dilated eyes smiled up at him. The need to ejaculate was a
pleasant ache in his balls. He intended to be slow and gentle, but
instinct overrode him. 

 "Please . . . Sara . . ., I need . . .," he apologized as he began to
thrust. 

 "Mmm, you feel wonderful. . .Ben," she purred, feeling another orgasm
build in response to his powerful strokes. 

 "Uhhh . . . yes, but I . . . have to . . .," he again tried to explain,
found he didn't know how. 

 "Ahhh . . . do you want to come? Huh?" at his affirmative groan, she
tightened her muscles again, "Ohh. . .yeah. . . don't worry . . . come on
then Ben," 

 "Ohhh . . . yes . . . Ahh. . .," having gained her understanding, he let
go of any reservations he may have had and gripping her hips, set his own
pace, long, forceful strokes replacing his previously controlled efforts. 

 Sara delighted in his abandon, his beauty, as he let passion overtake
him. Sweat beads formed on his chest and forehead and his low moans
sounded almost like growls. 

 Held on the knife-edge of an explosive orgasm, Ben felt sweat roll down
his back, a pleasant tingle extending from the hair on his head to the
tips of his toes. He felt Sara's muscles draw taut and changed the angle
of his entry for maximum effect for both of them. His entire body was like
a rubber band, stretched to full capacity. Entering shallowly, the
sensation was magnified and he balanced on the verge of climax, the
constriction extending the moment as he maintained a quick pace. 

 "Oh! . . . Ah! . . .I'm . . . uh . . ." he chanted, finally looking down
at where they were joined. 

 The rubber band snapped and Ben plunged deeply, frantically into her as
he trembled and clutched at her under the force of the most powerful
orgasm of his life. Sara followed him with her own powerful climax,
heightening and lengthening his release. It was several long moments
before he stopped moving and released his grip on her. It was even longer
before his panting ceased and he was capable of any meaningful movement or
speech. He was horrified to see that he'd drooled on her shoulder and
quickly wiped it away in a motion he hoped she'd interpret as a caress. 

 "Sara . . . I don't know what to say. That was . . .extraordinary . . .to
say the least," he said finally as they moved apart. 

 "You were incredible, Ben. Absolutely mind-blowing," she crooned as she
removed the cock ring and condom, since he'd seemed uncertain of how to do
it himself. 

 "I feel I should tell you that I don't, um, well, it's not that I've
never . . ." he wasn't sure how to confess his own lack of experience, "I
apologize if . . .Sara, I don't have much experience at this and I
apologize if I neglected some . . .thing. . .that shouldn't have been. . .
well, neglected." 

 Sara wasn't at all sure of what he was trying to say, but reassured him,
"No, Ben, you didn't neglect anything, believe me. You were wonderful.
Really." 

 "Thank you kindly. . . you were, uh, exquisite." He paused, "Though that
. . ." he indicated the cock ring, "was a bit of a surprise." 

 Sara twirled it on her finger, "well, I saw you looking at them in the
store and thought you might like a little demonstration. For a moment I
thought I'd have to call the paramedics." 

 "Oh. Well," he blushed and cleared his throat, "For a moment I wondered
myself. It certainly did. . . er, enhance, the um . . .experience. Though
I must confess I don't have much to compare it to." 

 "Oh my God! You weren't a. . . I mean, I assumed that . . .Oh, Ben, was
that your first time?" she looked genuinely distressed. 

 "Oh! Oh, no. No, no. It's just that the few . . .encounters," he looked
to be sure she understood, "I've had were quite a long time ago. A number
of years to be honest." 

 He forced his mind away from his memory of Victoria, the very last woman
he'd made love to and the disastrous result. Time to put the past behind
him, he thought. 

 "Oh, good. I didn't think so, but I wouldn't want that to be someone's
very first experience." She sighed with obvious relief. 

 Glancing at his watch, he realized that it really was quite late now and
that Diefenbaker was going to be quite cross with him. He hoped it
wouldn't be rude to leave so soon after making love. 

 "I'm sorry to say this, and I hope it's not improper, but I really do
have to leave now. I'm afraid Diefenbaker's going to be quite put out with
me." He explained. 

 "No, it's quite all right, but who's Diefenbaker?" she asked, suspicion
creeping in. 

 Certainly he wasn't married, not after what he'd just told her. 

 "My wolf. Well, half-wolf actually, but he's very sensitive about it.
It's long past time for our evening walk." He explained. 

 "Oh. Oh! I hope you don't have a mess to clean up when you get home," she
hoped the relief didn't show. 

 "I doubt that, he'll let himself out the window if his need is dire, or
even if it isn't, but he'll be cross just the same. Don't worry, he'll
come around, he always does, eventually," he explained as he reclaimed his
clothing. 

 Ben was resigned to the fact that Dief would make him pay for his
transgression, the only unknown was for just how long. 

 Sara was surprised at how quickly the man was able to dress. Maybe they
have drills like the fire department, she mused. Throwing on her blouse
and skirt, she showed him to the door as he finished buckling the Sam
Browne into place. The only obvious sign that anything had transpired
between them was his hair, which was in charming disarray. She decided not
to tell him. 

 "I had a wonderful evening, Ben, thank you," she stood on her tiptoes to
kiss him goodnight and was pleased when he returned it avidly. 

 "As did I, Sara. Thank you again. I'd like to see you again, if that's
agreeable," he smiled. 

 Ben observed her closely for any reluctance to see him again. Far from
it, she smiled, "Yes, I'd like that." 

 "Well, good night. Sleep well," he said, feeling awkward, as if he should
say more. 

 "You too, good night," she answered, closing the door. 

 Ben looked at the door for a moment before leaving the building. It was
lovely night, the full moon now almost setting. Perhaps this would be the
beginning of something for him, he thought. Perhaps the full moon had
something to do with it. 

 What Ben didn't know, couldn't possibly have known then, was that
Victoria would reappear in his life before he ever saw Sara again. Sara
would become a road not taken and to which he would never return. 

 THE END