Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Jesus, Mary & Joseph By Jeremy Spencer Copyright 2004

   All rights reserved.  This story may be downloaded for personal use, but
any posting to a website, free or otherwise, is strictly forbidden.  If you
have found this story somewhere other than my page
(/~Jeremy_Spencer/) or at Storiesonline, please let me
know by filling in a feedback form at either place.

   Author's Note: The following is a fictional story.  In it, fictional
characters have hot, sweaty, unprotected, fictional sex.  They live in a
fictional world without fictional diseases.  You do not.  Be careful.  All
characters in this story are old enough to know what they're doing.  Now,
on to the show!

   *****

   When it comes up in conversation, or I'm badgered into telling someone
who hasn't heard my story, I like to joke that there are three people
responsible for bringing my wife and I together.  Those three people are
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

   And they inevitably give me the same kind of look you're giving me right
now.  Trust me, I'm used to it, so you can stop it any time.

   Seriously.  Stop it.

   It sounds crazy, I know, of course it does.  I say it jokingly, but it's
one hundred percent true.

   I was seven years old when Jesus came into my life.  Okay, okay,
already. His full name was Jesus Alejandro Diaz, but everybody called him
Jesus.  Like I said, I was seven years old and everyone I knew thought it
was incredibly funny that his name was Jesus.

   Everybody knew Jesus was a white guy with a beard.  Right?

   Anyway, I was spending the weekend at Jason Keller's house.  Jason lived
next door to me, and he was without a doubt my best friend in the whole
world, and would be until tenth grade when that rat bastard stole my
girlfriend.

   I got over it though, and invited him to my wedding.  He was even my
best man.  And his dad gave away the bride.

   This night though, we're only seven years old, and we were mad.  Tonight
was supposed to be cool.  Our new, all-time favorite television show - The
Dukes of Hazzard - was on, and after that we were going to stay up all
night watching monster movies.  Or at least we'd try to stay up all night,
but usually it was around eleven o'clock when we'd get tired and fall
asleep in front of the television.

   So instead of gorging ourselves with candy and soda, there we were,
sitting in the waiting room of St.  Francis Medical Center wearing nothing
but our flannel pajamas, trying to stay awake.

   "When is it going to happen?" Jason asked his aunt.  Aunt Celia was
watching Jason while Jason's mom and dad were with the doctors having a new
baby, and since I was staying with Jason, Aunt Celia was watching me too.

   Celia sighed, looking at her watch.  She'd been watching Jason for the
last couple days, trying to help out her sister, and even at my young age,
I could tell she was getting tired.

   "I don't know, Jason.  Sometimes it only takes a couple hours, sometimes
it can take a lot longer than that."

   A couple hours.  Jason and I thought about that for a long time.  A
couple hours is a lifetime when you're a kid, and she said having a baby
sometimes took a lot longer than two hours, so we could...  we could be
here forever!

   "I have to go to the bathroom," Jason announced.  Rather unnecessarily,
I thought as I looked at him, jumping up and down and holding his hand over
his crotch.  "Celia, where's the bathroom?"

   "Eric, do you need to go too?" she asked me.  I'm Eric Stanton, by the
way, and I'm spending the weekend with Jason while my parents are at a
couples retreat.  I found out later that they're having marital problems,
but I didn't know that yet, and wouldn't have understood anyway.  I'm only
seven.  But I knew enough to go to the bathroom before we left the house,
so I didn't have to pee.

   "I'm okay," I tell Celia.  Sighing, she stood and took Jason by the hand
and together they went off to find a bathroom.

   So now I'm by myself in the waiting area, and the night just keeps
getting worse and worse.  First we didn't get to finish eating pizza
because Jason's mom's water broke at the restaurant, and we all rushed to
the hospital.  Since she wasn't the mom or the dad, Celia got stuck with
the two of us, and the three of us sat in the lounge, waiting Jason's new
sister to be born.  But now they're off looking for the bathroom, and I'm
all alone.

   I was sitting there, stewing in my frustration, when I felt a tap on my
shoulder.  Truth be told, I was starting to get a little worried.  Jason
and Celia had been gone a long time, so everybody I knew at the hospital
was somewhere else, and I didn't know who could be trying to get my
attention.  I turned and saw Jesus.

   "You want to see baby?" he asked.

   "What baby?" I asked.

   "The Baby.  Baby is born!  Baby Stephanie." He was waving his arms
around, and I was glad we were alone, because he was a little embarrassing.
Jesus was kind of the town janitor.  If something needed cleaning or
fixing, Jesus was there to help.  He wasn't the smartest fellow you've ever
seen, but he was probably the nicest.  Everybody loved Jesus, and Jesus
loved everyone right back.

   "Yeah, I guess." I decided I did want to see the new baby.  I didn't
have any brothers or sisters, so this was all really new to me.

   We walked together past the reception desk and down a long hallway to a
big set of double doors labeled "maternity ward." Jesus pushed the door
open and motioned me to go ahead.  There was another hallway, but this one
had all kinds of big glass windows.

   Jesus pointed for me to look through the window.  I walked up and peered
in, pressing my nose against the glass.  Inside were six or seven baby
cribs, each holding a tiny baby.

   "What's in that one?" I asked, not understanding what I was seeing.  One
of the cribs was bigger than the others and had a big plastic tent over it.
Jesus didn't know the right words, but he described that that baby inside -
Stephanie, as it turns out - had been born early, and was sick, as are most
preemies.

   The tent was there to keep germs away from her, "so she don't get
sicker," he said.

   "Is she going to die?" This was becoming more and more traumatic for my
seven year old mind.  I knew people went to hospitals when they were sick,
but they were supposed to get better, and now a brand new baby was sick,
and I was sad.

   Jesus shook his, and told me Stephanie would be fine, but Jason's mom
and dad would need to be very careful with her.

   "Will she break?" I had heard someone talk about Jason's mom's water
breaking at the pizza place, but didn't really understand what it meant.  I
didn't want baby Stephanie to break..  Jesus laughed gently, attempting to
calm my nervousness.

   "She strong," he said.  "Women always strong.  Stronger than you," he
teased, seeing I was near tears.

   "Is not," I muttered.  "She's just a baby.  I'm stronger than a baby."

   Jesus smiled, patting me on the head.

   "Poor boy.  You learn soon.  Woman always stronger." Jesus nodded sagely
and walked off down the hall.

   *****

   "What are you watching?" I called downstairs as I bounced down the steps
to the basement.  Jason's dad was a lawyer, and they lived in this real big
house on the edge of town now that he'd gotten a promotion at his law firm.
We didn't hang out as much as we used to when we were little kids, cause it
was a longer ride on my bike than before he had moved, and I wouldn't be
able to get my driver's license for another half a year.  Well, more like
six months and eight days.  Not that I was keeping track.

   "Hey Eric.  C'mere," Jason waved me over.  He had practically the entire
basement to himself, which was really great when we wanted to look at the
stash of Playboys he'd stolen from his dad.

   I walked over and sat on the floor next to Jason, turning to look at the
television.  It looked like a home video, because the picture was all jumpy
and out of focus a lot.  A few years ago, Jason's dad had been one of the
first people I knew that bought a video camera.  He must have spent a
fortune on it, at least that's what I figured by the way he went on and on
about how great it was.  But that was a few years ago, and he'd since given
his old one to Jason as a hand-me-down, but Jason just let it sit in the
corner of his room.

   Jason's dad had also been one of the first people in town to have a
video cassette player, a big bulky thing with fake wood veneer, and I know
Jason was still the only kid in our grade to have one in his own room.

   Like I said, his dad was a big shot lawyer, and Jason had all kinds of
cool stuff.

   So the stuff on television was kind of jerky, as if whoever was
operating the camera didn't quite know how it worked.  I looked at the
screen, trying to figure out what I was seeing, but all I saw were tons of
people on a crowded little street.  They were all packed together really
tight, but everybody seemed to really happy about it.  There were lots of
people wearing bright costumes, and it looked like a band playing on the
balcony of a building.

   "Is this a Halloween party?" I asked, thinking it might have been,
because of all the costumes.  Jason shook his head.

   "No, it's something down in Louisiana.  I think my dad called it
Mardygra or something.  It's kind of a big party where..." I cut him off,
jumping up from the floor and shouting at the television.

   "She just took her shirt off!  Did you see that?  She just showed her
boobs!" I sat down in a heap.  This was the coolest thing I'd ever seen! 
If Jason kept talking about this Mardygra, I didn't hear him, I was so
intent on watching for more boobs.

   The video went on for another ten minutes or so, but there were only a
couple more boobs.

   "Wow," I said when it was finally over.  "Damn.  That was cool.  Watch
it again?"

   "Sure," Jason said.  "I have to rewind it first." Jason hit the rewind
and the two of us talked while the tape spun backwards to the beginning.

   "Where'd you get that?" I asked.  "That was so great!"

   "Isn't it awesome?  My dad took that."

   "I figured he did, but what's the deal with all the ladies pulling their
shirts up?"

   "I don't know.  Did you see that most of the time when they showed their
boobs someone gave them a necklace?"

   "You mean the beads?"

   "Yeah, whatever.  I think they have to pull their shirt up or something,
if they really want the beads."

   "And they don't get arrested?"

   "I guess not, but they should have arrested that one."

   "The huge one?"

   "How big was she?  She must have weighed five hundred pounds!"

   "Yeah, but she had big ones, didn't she?"

   We both nodded, remembering the enormous breasts one of the women had
displayed.  I was startled to hear a voice from behind me.

   "Who had big ones?  Big what?" I turned and saw Stephanie standing
there. Stephanie was now a tiny seven year-old sylph of a girl.  She was
pretty, with a round face and a tiny nose, and her hair was the color of
sunlight.  She was holding a cup of juice in one hand and an oversized
Raggedy Ann doll in the other.  "Jason, who had big ones?"

   "Nobody.  What are you doing here?" Jason answered, upset and afraid his
little sister might have seen what we were watching.  "How long have you
been down here?  I thought I told you to play in your room."

   "I'm bored.  I wanna play with you guys."

   "You can't play with us," Jason smirked.  "You're too young."

   "Am not."

   "Yes you are."

   "I'm gonna be eight next month.  That's not too young."

   "And I'll be fifteen pretty soon," Jason shot back.  "See?  You're too
young."

   "Mom says you're supposed to watch me, so I'm playing down here with you
guys," Stephanie said, and plopped down onto the floor.

   I looked at Jason, but he just looked at me in defeat.

   "Fine, you little brat.  Stay down here.  We don't care.  We're going to
watch some videos."

   I looked at Jason in surprise, but he just shrugged.

   "Are you sure?" I whispered.  He nodded.

   "It's fine.  She's too young to get it.  Besides, I caught her one day
looking through one of dad's dirty magazines and told Mom, but she didn't
care.  She says Stephanie's a girl and if she wants to look at other naked
women it's okay."

   "That's weird.  She'd care if she caught you doing it."

   "That's what I said, but she said it was different."

   "Whatever."

   The tape had long finished rewinding, and with a nod from Jason, and one
last look at Stephanie, who didn't seem to be paying attention, I started
the tape playing again.

   The beginning of the tape, which I hadn't seen, was if anything even
better than the end.  There was a parade at first, and tons of beads and
coins being thrown from these hugs floats.  There were really loud marching
bands and lots of people and shouting and more costumes.

   At the end of the parade was a cut in the footage, and suddenly the
scene was like before, back on the really crowded street, only now there
were all kinds of women taking their shirts off.  A lot of them were really
hot, and I was kind of squirming around on the floor, as blood rushed into
my dick.  I was thinking how nice it would to touch their boobs and kiss
them.

   "She's pretty." I froze for a second, my head whipping around.  There
was Stephanie, watching the television.  I looked at Jason, but he shrugged
his shoulders again, as if to say, "what can I do?"

   "You think she's pretty?" I asked.  Stephanie nodded.

   "I think she's pretty too," I told her.

   "She's got big ones," Stephanie said, surprising me.

   "What?"

   "She's like Mommy.  I don't have big ones, but Mommy says I'll get them
sometime."

   Hearing this, I'm sure I must have blushed bright crimson.  I couldn't
believe I was having this conversation with my best friend's seven year-old
sister.  Worse, I realized that seeing all the nudity, in addition to
talking about boobs with Stephanie, had my dick as hard as a rock.  I
dropped my hands in my lap to try to cover up the lump in my pants, which
only caused Stephanie to look, but I don't think she saw anything.  Or if
she did, didn't realize what it was or why I had it.

   "This is boring," she finally said, as I just sat there.  Jason ignored
her, and to my relief, she got up and went upstairs.

   *****

   During my senior year of high school, my parents finally decided they
hated each other enough to make life miserable for me, but not enough to
actually get a divorce from each other.  To best show their spite for each
other, both had begun having affairs with people from work, although Dad
was gone so often before it didn't feel like much had changed.

   I had finally forgiven Jason for stealing my girlfriend, and Jodi for
cheating on me with my best friend, and wished the two of them well in
their new relationship.  I thought it was quite generous of me, considering
it had only taken me two years to get over it.  The fact that I was sure
their relationship would never last past high school helped ease my pain.

   I started college with high hopes of finding someone special to call my
own, but quickly found college to be much like the rest of my life.

   "You're too clingy," one girl told me.  Kelly and I had been casually
dating for part of sophomore year when she told me it was over.  "I want to
have a good time when we hang out," she had said, "but it's like you've
been looking to get married since our second date.  I can't handle it."

   I decided then that from that point on I would be known as Mr.  Fun to
all my friends.  Gone were the days of studying in the library until
midnight on Friday.  I was a changed man, ready to close any bar I might
encounter!

   Needless to say, that lifestyle lasted until I received my next set of
grades.  I realized that if I wanted to actually do something more in life
than work the "Keys While You Wait" booth at the local mall, I'd best study
a little harder.

   The last two years of college were a rush of classes and books and term
papers.  I have no strong memories of those years, but something must have
gone right, for at last, one windy Saturday morning in June, a certain Eric
Anthony Stanton walked twenty-three steps across the school's stage,
received his diploma and shook the provost's hand.  Waving at the crowd, I
took my seat, the school's most recent graduate - at least until the next
name was announced.

   *****

   I had lived through four years of college with one motto through it all:
no classes before nine o'clock.  It was practically a religion.  Each
semester I would register for the next with one overriding principle in
mind: get as much sleep as possible.
To say that "real life" came as a shock to me would be a great
understatement.  Suddenly I was in the real world.  If I wanted a job, or
wanted to keep my job, and the boss said I needed to be there at eight
o'clock, then I would be there at eight o'clock, come hell or hangover. 
For many months, my body and I were at great odds with each other, to say

the least.

   Still, it came as a much greater shock to my system when I arrived home
one evening to find my answering machine blinking.

   "Hey Buddy," came a voice from my past.  Jason and I hadn't spoken in a
few years.  We still chatted via email occasionally, but his were short and
impersonal, and mine few and far between, and we had mostly lost touch.

   "Long time no see," he continued, in the cheery, overly-fake voice so
common to answering machines.  "I have big news for you, Eric.  I don't
want to spoil the surprise, but make sure you watch your mailbox.  See ya!"

   I stood there, wondering what possible news he could have, but quickly
put it out of my mind.

   So it was another surprise when I received the wedding invitation in the
mail.

   "The Parents of Jason Montgomery Mitchell and Jodi Lynn Parker cordially
invite you to the wedding of their two beloved children," the parchment
read.

   Damn!  The two had made it work.  I had to admit I was impressed.

   I immediately got on the phone and began the process of patching up that
which needed mending.  Old friendships are hard to kill, I found, and it
wasn't too long before I was boarding the train for the twenty hour ride
back home.

   Home, of course, wasn't the way I had left it.  The house I grew up in
had long since been sold, my father now alone with his beer and football
games, my mother and her second husband living in a tiny two-bedroom
apartment.  I showed up for the requisite greetings, but quickly made my
way to the Mitchell residence.

   I'm not sure what I was expecting.  I was staying at Jason's parents'
house during the wedding, but it had not occurred to me I would be alone in
the house with them and his sister Stephanie, a recently-licensed terror
(at least according to Jason and his parents) on the local roads.  Jason
and Jodi had already set up house together, and were of course busy with
last minute preparations, and had little time for me, other than the
wedding rehearsal and dinner.

   So it was on a Friday evening two days before the wedding that I found
myself alone in the cavernous house with no plans, no one to meet and
nothing to do.  Deciding to take the opportunity to do a little scavenging,
I did what any normal, hot-blooded, horny American male would do in my
situation.  I rifled through Mr.  Mitchell's closet, looking for porn.

   And struck the motherlode.  Apparently my parents weren't the only
couple in town with problems, unless the enormous stack of tapes and DVDs
I'd found was some sort of marital aid.  Titles and kinks I'd never really
taken time to imagine all laid out before my eyes.  Men and Woman.  Men and
Lots of Women.  Women with Women.  Men with Midget Women.  Men tying up
Women.  The variety was endless, and I was at a loss at what to watch,
having never experienced the entire width and breadth the adult
entertainment industry had to offer.

   Finally deciding to just grab something and get on with it, and more
than likely get off with it too, I grabbed a black cassette, marked only
with a piece of masking tape.  PRIVATE read the label, which I assumed was
a good thing.

   I made the quick trek to the basement, where I found Jason's old room
much as it had been when I last visited.  Different television and VCR,
updated with the newest and best gadgets available, but still the same bed
and underneath, I assumed, the same dirty magazines, were I to look for
them.

   I didn't bother checking, instead slipping the tape inside the player.
The tape started automatically, and I found myself watching what appeared
to be some sort of best-of sex compilation.  I found myself skipping ahead
until suddenly I saw a familiar tableau.

   New Orleans.  Late February.  Mardi Gras.

   I suddenly flashed back nine years previous, to the day Jason and I had
watched his father's homemade video.  Instantly I was rock hard inside my
slacks.  Almost without thought my hand slipped down and cupped my cock,
squeezing the hard shaft, and I knew I would have to jack off if I hoped to
get any rest that evening.

   Pausing the tape, I quickly unbuckled my belt and pulled my slacks to
the floor.  My briefs followed and I lay on his bed, clad in only a
t-shirt, my hand wrapped around my hard shaft, slowly stroking myself to
the images on the television.

   The women were the same as they ever were.  Although these were
different women from the tape I'd watched previously, they were begging for
the same beads and coins as had been prizes since the early 1900s.  One guy
on the screen was even going on about how great it was, some group was even
throwing coconuts again.

   I lay on the bed, a thin sheen of perspiration forming on my forehead,
my eyes glued to the bare breasts on the screen in front of me, my hand a
blur as I pumped my dick.  I thought I heard a noise, and whipped my head
around, but saw nothing, and quickly resumed my stroking.

   One woman in particular caught my eye.  She was dressed in the style
made popular years before by Madonna, who had shocked everyone as she
writhed on the floor of a video awards show, dressed only in a lacy wedding
gown.  I felt a drop of pre cum dripping from the end of my cock, and
reached out, smearing the fluid over my hard shaft, lubricating myself.

   I groaned as I watched the woman on the screen.  If she was an amateur,
she was damn good, I thought.  She slowly pulled the straps of her bra down
over her shoulders, pulling and teasing on them as slowly each massive cone
of her tit was unveiled.  Her nipples were huge, bright pink and standing
straight out from her tits, and I felt myself losing control, my hips
thrusting up against my hand as I continued pounding my cock.

   With little warning, my dick erupted, and I felt my cum pulsing hotly
out the end of my cock.  My hand was a slippery mess, and as I turned to
look for a rag in order to clean myself, I froze.

   Stephanie, half hidden in shadows, stared at me in shock, as frozen in
place as I was.  I had not seen her in four years, our last time together
had been my high school graduation.  At the time, I had been an 18 year-old
getting ready to head off to college, she a scrawny 12 year-old just
starting to transform into a woman.  We had nothing in common and had said
little more than congratulations and hello.  That had changed during the
course of my current visit, however.

   The Stephanie of today, I knew from having talked with her a little
since I had been back for the wedding, was quickly becoming a stunning
young woman.  She was vivacious, smart, beautiful, and fun to be around,
and frequently I had found myself thinking about her at night.

   At the moment, however the Stephanie in the basement was a stammering,
blushing mess.  She also had her hand down her shorts and been obviously
frigging her pussy while watching me jack my meat.  Now that I noticed she
was in the room, I became aware of other things, including the nearly
overpowering scent of aroused woman.

   Before I could say anything, however, she turned with a squeal, and ran
up the stairs to the safety of her own room.

   I lay there on the bed for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts.  I
had no doubt this would be the beginning of very bad things.  Images of
myself standing in front of a judge popped into my head, as the bailiff
read off the charges against me.  "Corrupting a minor" echoed through my
mind, although I realized that Stephanie had been the one spying on my
activities, and from the scent of her, had been an eager participant in her
own.

   I jerked back to reality as I felt my cock drip the last cold remains of
my orgasm onto my leg.  I quickly got up, wiping myself off as best I
could, and walked upstairs.  My plan was to get out of the house and into
my rental car.  I would drive for a few hours, and see what happened from
there.  Not much of a plan, and as it turned out a useless idea, but at the
moment it was all I had.

   As I reached the door, I heard a quiet voice whispering to me from the
stairs.

   "Wait, Eric.  Don't go." I turned and saw Stephanie sitting on the
bottom step.  She looked haggard and beaten, her head resting against her
fists, which were propped up on her legs.  She looked tiny and sad, and I
closed the door, walking back towards her.

   "I'm sorry," she said, her voice ragged, just as my own mouth was
opening to apologize.  My jaw hung there a moment before my mouth snapped
shut.

   "Don't be," I answered, sitting on the floor next to her.  From my
vantage point I realized I could see directly up the right let of her
shorts.  I could still smell her arousal, although it was now slightly
masked with the smell of soap, but the crotch of her shorts was still damp
and pressed tight against her mound and I found her incredibly erotic.

   "I shouldn't have walked in on you like that," she moaned, shaking her
head back and forth.  "It's all my fault, and you hate me." Stephanie's
voice broke as she spoke, her shoulders shaking with emotion.

   "Hush.  I don't hate you.  It's my fault.  I should have known better
than to...  to do what I was doing." Stephanie looked up at me, her eyes
streaked with tears, scarcely able to believe me.  I nodded.  "It's my
fault," I stated.  "Not yours.  Okay?"

   She nodded shyly, unable for the most part to look me in the eye.  We
sat there together, silently thinking our own thoughts.

   "You're big," she finally said, blushing prettily.  I arched my eyebrows
at her, a small smile on my lips.

   "Am I?" I asked.  "And how would you know?"

   "I...  I know where you got the tape you were watching," she said,
admitting she too had searched through her father's stash of videos. 
"She's pretty, isn't she?"

   "Who is?" I asked, unsure who we were talking about.

   "Mary." I shook my head, lost for the moment.

   "Who's Mary?" I asked.

   "The girl you were jack...  masturbating to, on the video.  She's
pretty."

   She was talking about the girl in the wedding gown, I was sure of it.

   "You've watched this one before?" I asked, surprised Stephanie would
admit such a thing.  She nodded slowly, embarrassed all the more.  "You
know her?  You know the girl?"

   "No."

   "Then how do you know her name?" I asked.

   "I don't, but I watch that tape all the...  I've watched it once or
twice, and I always think of her as Mary." I nodded in reply, understanding
a little more.

   "Like the Virgin Mary," I said, noting with amusement the surprised look
on Stephanie's face.

   "Yeah," she said, her face a mask of confusion.  "How did..."

   "Like the Madonna song," I said.

   "Yeah!" She blushed again, clearly embarrassed.

   "You're right though," I said as I stood.  "She is very pretty."
Stephanie giggled, pointing at me.

   "I can tell you like her," she laughed, a new bulge evident in my
slacks. I attempted to cover myself as I quickly spun and walked out of the
room, her laughter echoing behind me.

   *****

   It wasn't all because of the video, I thought to myself as I lay in my
bed.  Ever since our chance encounter, I had been a mess, thoughts of
Stephanie running through my head.

   Stephanie kissing me.  Stephanie feeling my cock.  Stephanie sucking on
my cock.  Stephanie opening her legs for me.  Opening herself up for my
fingers, my mouth, my cock.  Stephanie, beautiful Stephanie riding me to
orgasm.

   I was a mess at the wedding.  I had been surprised but honored to be
asked to serve as a groomsman, but found the job difficult.  I was to
escort Stephanie down the aisle as one of the bridesmaids, and to my
consternation found I had a hard time looking her in the eye.

   After the wedding, I left town as quickly as I could, back to the safety
of my own home, and returned to the real world.

   One day, to my surprise, I received an email from Stephanie.

   Dear Eric,

   I got your email address from my brother.  I hope you don't mind if I
send you a short message.  I promise not to spam you!  <grin> I said I
wanted to thank you for hanging out with me when you were here for the
wedding.  I wanted you to know I had a good time, especially that one night
<wink wink>, but I won't tell anyone.

   You were always nice to me, not treating me like a little kid, and I
wanted to thank you.

   If you wanted to write me at my email address, you can go ahead.  I
promise to write back.

   Stephanie

   I wasn't quite sure what to make of this, but found myself pleased,
thinking back to our short encounter.  She said you had a big one, I
reminded myself, a bit smug at the thought.  She's so young, a part of me
answered, chastising the aroused part of my brain.  She's only sixteen!

   But it's only an email, I rationalized.  Besides, what would she want to
hang out with an old guy like me?  I'm almost twenty-four years old.

   So, I wrote back.  Her emails were generally chatty, telling me all
about her friends and school.  She talked about different boys she was
dating, and when she finally let one of them "go all the way," she told me
it had hurt, but she was glad she'd done it.

   Slowly, as months turned to years, the emails slowed and eventually
stopped coming.  I lost my job at the local school district, and went
searching far and wide for another position, finally finding one teaching
English to Spanish-speaking immigrants in eastern Texas.

   Stephanie graduated high school, and began attending college somewhere
in the Midwest, but after a few emails, we lost track of each other.

   *****

   A couple years later I was still in Texas, sick and tired.  Sick of
teaching, tired of the kids.  Bored with life.

   Every once in a while I found myself thinking back to my college days
and remembering how great it had been, although I knew that was mostly rose
colored glasses.

   It was the middle of January, and classes were slow to get rolling after
Christmas break, and no one, myself included was motivated to learn
anything.  The kids hated my class, wondering why their English wasn't good
enough, and I was frustrated, knowing most of them refused to speak
anything but Spanish unless they were in school

   It just didn't seem to be worth it, and I knew I needed a break or I
would snap.

   I kept seeing commercials for the Super Bowl coming up.  Green Bay was
back in the big game for the first time in almost thirty years, so the buzz
for this game was off the charts.  They were playing a New England Patriots
team that no one had expected to be there.  They hadn't been to the
playoffs the year before, but had an 11-5 record this year.  Still they
didn't appear to match up well with the Packers, but I thought it would be
a good game.  New England had a great coach by the name of Bill Parcels. 
I'd hated him for years when he was the coach of the New York Giants. 
Little did I realize that in seven more years he would be coaching my team.

   My own team, the Dallas Cowboys, had dominated the league during the
early 1990s.  They'd won the Super Bowl in 1992, 1993 and 1995 but the were
getting older.  To me, Dallas looked to be in a bit of a downward spiral,
although things wouldn't get really bad for a few years.

   We'd won the division for the fifth straight year, but lost to a young
Carolina team at Carolina, where the Panthers didn't lose.  I was a little
frustrated, because Dallas had played and defeated both New England and
Green Bay that year, not allowing either team a single touchdown (although
Dallas kicked nothing but field goals in both games too), so I knew if we'd
only been able to beat Carolina we could have won our fourth Super Bowl in
six years, but it wasn't to be.

   I watched the game anyway, more for something to pass the time than from
a strong rooting interest, which was good because the game wasn't all that
exciting.  Desmond Howard had a great game returning kicks, but otherwise
the game was pretty boring.  Green Bay won, their third Super Bowl
championship in three tries, but what caught my attention was all the
commercials.

   In the second half, after all the expensive commercials had been aired,
the game was nothing but commercials for New Orleans, the city where the
game was being played.  I smiled, remembering all the times Jason and I had
watched his father's Mardi Gras videos, and right then made up my mind to
spend my spring break in Louisiana.

   The next month was busy for me.  School and preparing my students for
their mid-term exams took up most of my time, but always in the back of my
mind was my upcoming trip, and the time I spent in teaching hell was a bit
easier to handle.

   On my drive in to the Big Easy, I passed through Eunice, Louisiana, a
small town roughly half way between New Orleans and Houston.  It appeared
to be a fairly poor town by the look of it, but I stopped at a diner and
was amazed at everything planned for the celebration.  Although I had
reservations further on down the road, it occurred to me that Eunice would
have been a nice place to spend my time.

   "Y'all here for the party?" a pretty waitress named Betty asked me. 
"Gonna be in the Mardi Gras run?" I explained I was just driving through,
but was curious.

   "What's the run?" I asked.

   "Y'all don't know 'bout the run?" Betty appeared horrified, and quickly
sat at my booth.  "Can't believe you never heard of the run," she shook her
head in disbelief.  "Every Mardi Gras we get up, and run through the
countryside, beggin' for gumbo fixins."

   "Really?"

   "Oh yeah, and it's a popular thing too.  Last year I think we had near
five hundred people runnin' out in the country."

   "And people do this every year?"

   "Yes sir, indeed they do, and this year's bound to be bigger.  We're
having us the biggest King Cake in the world this year." I must have again
appeared puzzled, and Betty laughed, explaining things to me.  "King Cake
is...  I don't know.  Kinda like a coffee cake, but decked out all nice and
pretty with sugar sprinkles on top."

   "You have any?"

   "Course we do!  What kinda place would this be if we didn't have any
King Cakes?  Lords sakes, where you think you at?" Betty shook her head as
she walked to the counter.  "Joseph!  Give me a piece of cake for our young
traveller.  He never had him no piece before." Suddenly a large black man
came out from behind the counter.

   "Who never had a piece of the King Cake?" he bellowed into the diner,
and I could feel the accusing eyes of every patron staring into me.  I
raised my hand sheepishly.  Suddenly his face brightened and Joseph
bellowed in laughter.  "Then this one's on the house!" he proclaimed,
quickly ducking back into the kitchen.

   In short order I found myself presented with a cake unlike any I'd ever
seen.  It was indeed very much like coffee cake, heavy and dense, but the
sprinkles were more like fine sugar, in bright purples and greens and
golds. It was very pretty, and I was almost - but not quite - sad to take
my first bite.

   "It's delicious," I said, and received knowing nods of approval.  I took
another bite, a little self-conscious, feeling myself the center of the
diner's attention.  Suddenly I bit into something hard.

   "Ow!  Damn," I cursed, spitting out...  whatever it was...  into my
hand. "What the hell?" I spoke, looking at what appeared to be a tiny
plastic baby.  I held it up, looking for an answer.

   "Oh!  Joseph!  He got the baby!" Betty seemed happy to see the plastic
object, and I wondered if I'd won something, as the rest of the diner
patrons applauded.

   "Won something?" Joseph chuckled from the counter.  "You just won
yourself the right to buy a whole cake from me.  Congratulations!" He
explained that it was a custom to put a plastic baby inside each cake. 
Whoever found it was declared "King" of the festival, and he and his
consort were paraded around.  Of course, the King is expected to pay for
the party, but that was a custom I was glad to hear was only rarely
enforced.

   "Oh well, sorry.  I don't have a date," I joked.

   "That don't matter hon," Betty told me.  "You find yourself a nice girl,
and you bring her back here.  You King of our festival now." I laughed
along with her, and quickly finished my meal.  On the way out, I did pick
up an entire cake from Joseph, and promised him I would return on my way
back through town.

   When I finally fought my way through the heavy New Orleans traffic, I
felt as if I'd driven through a war zone and riot and parade all at the
same time, as the traffic and revelers making travel on all but the largest
roads difficult.

   I finally arrived in the Big Easy early Saturday afternoon.  I had been
able to get a tiny room at the Lafayette Hotel, right on most of the parade
routes, so thankfully wouldn't have to drive in the city during the
celebrations.

   I knew I wouldn't be able to get into any of the fancy society balls,
but I found it a pleasant enough diversion to walk along the water, finding
it a bit more peaceful than fighting my way through the hoards of drunken
party-goers who congregated every night on Bourbon Street.

   My room was nice, although small and expensive, but I considered myself
fortunate to have it.

   Sunday night I decided I may as well head down to join in the fun, and
quickly found myself in the midst of what had to be the largest outdoor
party in the world.  Try as I might, I was unable to resist gawking at the
hundreds of women flashing their tits for beads and coins.

   It was very much the same as I remembered from the videos, only now I
found it a little sad.  I was thinking about how so many of these women
would find themselves on hundreds of web pages without knowing it, when
someone crashed into me from behind, spilling a drink all over me.

   "Damn!" I exclaimed as the icy cold liquid ran down my back.  "Why don't
you watch where you're..." I cut off, unable to speak, as I looked dead in
the eye of Stephanie Keller.  She looked plastered beyond belief, and I
wasn't sure if she recognized me in her inebriated state.

   "Hey, guy!" she slurred, looking at her now empty cup sadly.  She threw
it away, staggering as she tripped on the street curb.  She was just as
beautiful as I remembered.  Her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, I was
able to get a close look at her delicate features, and I realized how much
I missed many of the people from my past.

   Stephanie watched me looking at her for a moment.  Around her neck were
dozens of strings of beads.  Seeing me notice her gaudy prizes, Stephanie
laughed at me.

   "You got some beads for me, mister?" As she asked, she reached down and
pulled on the bottom of her shirt, exposing her breasts to me.  A group of
college kids behind me whistled and cheered.  One of them threw a string of
beads at her, which Stephanie caught and awkwardly threw over her neck,
trying to keep her shirt up with one hand.

   Saddened by her display, I reached out and pushed her hand down,
covering her from view.

   "Let's get out of here," I shouted over the noise of the crowd.  I
grabbed Stephanie by the arm and led her toward the edge of the street,
where the mass of humanity quickly thinned.

   Not wanting to leave her alone, for fear of what might happen, I pulled
a quietly protesting Stephanie with me toward my hotel.  I stood by, hands
in pockets, trying to ignore the angry stares of passersby as Stephanie
stood on the edge of the grass, vomiting out what looked to be her
evening's worth of alcohol.

   "We need to get some food in you," I admonished, dragging her upstairs
to my tiny room.  I had some bread and cold cuts in my hotel refrigerator,
and I quickly made her a sandwich, which she greedily ate.

   It was late, long after midnight, and I didn't know where Stephanie was
staying, and wasn't sure she did either at the moment, so I made the
decision to give her the bed.  I took one pillow and blanket and curled up
on the small sofa.  I managed to stay awake long enough to make sure
Stephanie was settled and sleeping, and quickly nodded off myself.

   *****

   I woke late the next morning.  I looked at the clock, noticing it was
nearly noon and sat up, the muscles in my back and neck screaming for
relief.  Seeing Stephanie was still asleep, I got up as quietly as I could,
grabbed a change of clothes and jumped in the shower.

   I was startled by a timid knock on the door.

   "Yes?"

   "Who are you?" It was Stephanie, of course, and I knew she was nervous,
having just found herself in a strange hotel room.

   "I'm a friend," I called back.  "Just a minute, Stephanie, I'll be out
in a second."

   "But where am I?" she cried.  "Who are you?  How do you know me?  What
happened?"

   Realizing she was on the verge of hysterics, I turned off the water.  I
wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door.

   "It's okay," I said, seeing Stephanie curled up on the floor, her head
in her hands.  She slowly looked up at me, relaxing noticeably as she
realized who I was.

   "Eric!" she shouted, jumping to her feet.  "What..  when...  how?" The
previous night had obviously taken its toll on her, and Stephanie moaned as
her hangover hit her full force and she slumped down onto the bed.

   I smiled, and slowly explained the previous evening to her.  As I'd
thought, she had no recollection of our meeting.  She smiled sadly as I
described her behavior, embarrassed at having been found in that condition.

   "Thank you," she said quietly.  She walked close to me and threw her
arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine.

   She was wearing only panties and a thin t-shirt and was soon damp from
pressing against my own body, which was still wet from the shower.  I felt
her soft breasts pushing against my bare chest.  I could feel the tiny
nipples poking through the shirt.

   Despite the previous night, Stephanie still felt and smelled clean to
me, and the realization of who I was holding in my arms, coupled with my
own near-nakedness, soon had my cock swelling and pushing against her hip,
through the white hotel towel.

   Stephanie felt it as well, and to my relief and surprise, didn't pull
away - if anything she pressed herself closer to me.  I could feel the heat
of her pussy against my leg as we held each other.  Finally I squeezed her
tight and released her.

   "It's good to see you," I said.  She smiled, looking at the obvious
bulge in the towel.

   "Obviously." she giggled.

   "Flirt," I teased, heading back to the bathroom.  She was still watching
as I closed the door behind me, shaking my head at the sudden change in my
situation.

   I quickly changed into my clothes, not wanting to embarrass her further
and offered her a shower.  I found out she was in town on spring break with
a few college friends.  She called her hotel room to let them know where
she was, and jumped into the shower.

   After Stephanie had cleaned up, I walked her back to her hotel to get a
fresh set of clothes.  I wasn't sure if I should ask to spend more time
with her or not.  She certainly had plans, or she wouldn't be in town, but
had seemed pleased enough to see me.

   My worrying turned out to be for nothing.

   "What are you doing later today?" Stephanie asked, as she emerged from
the bathroom, freshly attired in clean clothes.  She was wearing a pair of
skin-tight jeans, and a red Houston Cougars shirt that stretched
delightfully over her firm breasts.

   "The Cougars?" I asked, ignoring her question.

   "That's where I go to school," she explained.

   "What about...  where did you used to go?"

   "Arkansas-Little Rock.  But I hated it.  I had to get out."

   "But why Houston?"

   "It has a well-respected business school, and I want a good business
degree, so I went there.  Why?"

   "Do you know where I live?" I asked.  She shook her head and stood
amazed, as I told her the name of my small suburb.

   "Happyville?  My roommate's parents live in Happyville." She sat there
stunned, as the realization hit her.  "So we can hang out and stuff, huh?"

   "Do you want to?" I asked.  "I'm kind of old, you know."

   "You mean I'm kind of young, don't you?" she asked, suddenly sullen.

   "No!  I just mean...  damn...  I mean you're younger than I am, of
course, and I wasn't sure if you'd want to hang out...  sorry...  do you
want to hang out?" She nodded tentatively.

   "I don't have a lot of good friends," she explained.  "I'm always kind
of shy around people, and my roommates thought it would be good to come
here to get me out of my shell."

   "Well," I said, laughing at the memory of the night before.  "You were
certainly out of your shell last night!" She blushed and punched me in the
arm.

   "Stop it.  I wasn't that bad," she said, a hurt look on her face as I
snorted in response.  "Was I?" I nodded.

   "Look how many beads you have," I said, pointing at the pile of colorful
plastic beads she had acquired, and were now draped over the back of a
chair.  "How do you think you got all those?" I asked.

   "I don't know, I suppose...  oh God!" she cried as the realization
struck her.  "You mean, I was...?" I nodded.  "Oh God."

   "It's okay," I said.  "I wasn't there too long, but I don't think most
of the people there will remember last night any better than you will."
Stephanie brightened visibly, looking relieved at my words.

   "So, do you want to hang out today?" she asked again.  I nodded.

   "I would love to," I answered sincerely.  The bright smile I received in
return was reward enough for my efforts.

   "Cool," she chirped, jumping to her feet and wrapping me in a big hug.
She held the hug much longer and much tighter than was necessary, and I
barely heard her when she whispered into my ear.  "I missed you," she said.

   "I missed you too," I answered, running my hand over her back.  I felt
her shiver in my arms and rubbed more insistently, to warm her up.  She
laughed, and broke our embrace.

   "So what do you want to do?" she asked.  I told her I hadn't really
thought about it, but didn't want to hang out with the big crowds.  She
too, said she's seen too many parades, and didn't feel like venturing out
with the party-goers again.

   "I have an idea," I said, a plan beginning to form in my head.  "Let's
get out of here.  Out of the city."

   "Where are we going?" she asked.

   "Later, you'll see later.  Will your roommates care if I give you a ride
back to Houston?" Stephanie looked incredulous at the suggestion.

   "No...  I don't think so.  Eric, what's going on?"

   "You'll see," I teased.  "Where's your stuff?  We should get going." She
shook her head, but did as I asked, and quickly we were out the door.

   It was a quick trip back to my hotel, where I told the clerk at the
front desk of my change of plans.  He seemed rather indignant that I would
be leaving the day before Mardi Gras, but his demeanor warmed when I
mentioned he would be able to get more money for the hotel room.

   *****

   The drive back to Eunice took much less time than the drive from there
had taken.  It seemed most of the traffic was heading into New Orleans for
that evening's round of parades and celebrations, and I felt happy to be
heading the opposite direction.

   On the way I told Stephanie about my life, while she talked about high
school and college.  I had barely begun to talk about my short stay in
Eunice two days before, when we were there.

   Stephanie looked around at the small town in surprise.  It was nearing
sunset, and the streets seemed to be deserted for the most part.  She
didn't think it to be anything to write home about, judging by the look on
her face.

   "Don't judge it too harshly," I said, patting her on the leg.  "Wait
until you meet some of the people.  They love me here." I smiled.  "I'm
practically the king of the town."

   Stephanie looked at me in amusement, clearly thinking me off my rocker,
but nodded anyway.  We managed to find a room at the local Best Western. 
It wasn't as fancy as The Lafayette, but it also didn't cost me two hundred
a night.  There was a problem, which we saw when I slipped the key into the
lock and opened the door.

   "I'm sorry," I said, turning to head back to the lobby.  "I'll see if
they have a room with two beds."

   "That's okay," Stephanie said quickly, pushing past me and dumping her
suitcase on the floor.  She flopped onto the bed after quickly turning the
air conditioning down.  "They probably just figured we were married and
assumed we'd want one bed.  I don't mind."

   "You sure?"

   "Yeah...  it'll be fun.  Kind of a like a sleep-over.  Remember when you
used to come over to my house and spend the night with Jason?" she asked. I
nodded, of course I remembered.

   "Those were some good times," I said, beginning to reminisce about my
childhood.

   "You guys were a couple of perverts," she said, interrupting my pleasant
memories.  "You two were always looking at dirty pictures and movies. 
Don't think I don't remember," she said, laughing at my expression.

   I wasn't embarrassed though, but was a bit surprised.  Had she forgotten
our encounter a few days before Jason's wedding?

   I raised my eyebrow at her.  "Don't think I don't remember a few things
too, missy.  What about you and the Virgin Mary?  You thought I'd forgot
all about that?" She looked confused for a moment, her brow knitted in
concentration.  Perhaps she had forgotten it!

   "Oh my God," she stammered, remembering the evening.  "I caught you
jacking off and..."

   "And I caught you with your hand in the...  cookie jar...  so to speak,"
I said as she blushed, remembering how she'd looked when she realized I'd
seen her, her hand down her panties.

   "I'd forgotten about that," she moaned.

   "I didn't," I whispered, almost afraid to admit what I was feeling at
the moment.  "You were so beautiful, and I was so embarrassed."

   "You were embarrassed?  God, I can't believe I'd forgotten all that.  I
thought you were going to hate me forever for walking in on you like that!"

   "And I thought your dad would kill me when he found out," I replied,
laughing along with her.  Suddenly she grew quiet.

   "Why did you stop sending me emails?" she finally asked.  I shrugged.

   "I don't know." I answered.  "It just seemed like you had your own life
and I had mine, and I didn't know if..."

   "If what?" she asked quietly.

   "I didn't know if you could ever feel about me the way I was starting to
feel about you," I finally admitted, as much to myself as to Stephanie.

   "What?" she squeaked.

   "I couldn't help it," I answered defensively, afraid I had ruined the
good mood.  "You were always so pretty and smart and funny, and I was
starting to fall for you.  I didn't know how you'd feel though, since I was
older and your brother's best friend." I shrugged helplessly.

   "You should have asked," she said softly.  When she looked up again,
there were tears in her eyes.  "I've been in love with you since I was
thirteen years old, and you never seemed interested in me, and I felt like
such a fool."

   Suddenly I felt like a heel, and quickly moved to the bed and sat beside
her.  Putting an arm around her shoulders, I held her close.  She had begun
to cry a little, but quickly wiped the tears away.  She was breathing
heavily against my side, her breasts pushing into my chest.  I could smell
her perfume, and began to feel light-headed at the rush of sensations.

   Slowly Stephanie reached a hand out, stroking the line of my jaw.  She
pulled away for a moment, staring intently at me, looking directly into my
soul.  I felt my gut twitch, and knew I could forever lose myself in the
pools of her eyes.

   "Kiss me," she said, leaning closer.  I wasn't sure if it was a question
or a command, but found myself leaning down to meet her.

   Our lips touched, hesitant and unsure.  Her mouth was so soft, and I
felt my lips puffing out at the contact.  I opened my mouth a bit, feeling
her lips part also, and our tongues slipped out, dueling between our
panting mouths.

   My cock was erect in my slacks, and I squirmed on the bed, trying to
force it into a more comfortable position.  Noticing my predicament,
Stephanie giggled into my mouth, and quickly slipped a hand down my front,
finally coming to rest on my bulge.

   I groaned as she began caressing me, and brought one of my own hands up
to cup her soft breast in return.  As she worked her hand over my shaft, I
felt Stephanie press her tit into my hand.  I was amazed at the feel of her
tits, spongy and solid, yet so soft to the touch.

   I began to smell the spicy scent of her arousal, as Stephanie's tongue
began thrusting more insistently against my own.

   Suddenly she broke off our kiss, her face flushed with desire.

   "I want you to make love to me," she panted breathlessly, her hands
feverishly working over the buttons of her pants.  I nodded dumbly, too
aroused to think of any consequences this might have for the two of us.  I
wanted her, I think I had always wanted her, and was relieved to find she
wanted me too.

   I stood, quickly undoing my own trousers.  Pulling my shirt over my
head, I stopped to stare as Stephanie turned away from me, pulling down her
panties.  The cheeks of her ass were pale and smooth, and I had to fight my
urge to run my fingers down the deep cleft of her ass.  Soon, I thought,
forcing myself to take things slowly.

   She turned back then, completely naked.  A small moan of frustration
slipped past her lips as she saw I was not yet naked.

   "Hurry up," she complained, dropping to the bed.  I stared, my fingers
fumbling as I tried to remove the rest of my clothing, as Stephanie lay
watching me.  Her fingers teased over her turgid nipples, running around
and around the pillowy flesh in circles as I dropped my underwear to the
ground.

   We were both anxious now, and I fell to the bed, collapsing beside her,
our mouths rushing to come together again.  My hand dropped to her hip and
I let it rest there, feeling the firm muscles of her leg, before slowly
working my way up the inside of her thigh.  She knew where I was heading,
and moaned her approval into my mouth as she spread her thighs, bidding me
higher and higher, closer to the center of her pleasure.

   I felt her heat and wetness before I arrived at the lips of her pussy.
She was a puddle of desire, and I needed no extra lubrication before
slipping a finger inside her dripping slit.  Her hips bucked against my
hand, and I remained there, motionless as she fucked herself against my
fingers.

   "Oh God," she hissed, her tongue attacking my neck and chest.  "I've
waited so long for this.  So good."

   Her own hands were far from idle, and I stifled my own cry as she
circled my hard shaft and slowly began pumping my cock.

   "Fuck," I groaned, feeling the slippery flesh of her fat pussy lips
sliding together as I teased the bud of her clit, now poking up from its
protective hood.  "I have to fuck you," I moaned.

   "Yes.  Yes," Stephanie panted, releasing my cock.  I started to move
between her legs, but suddenly found myself thrown to my back.  Stephanie
put a hand on my chest and grinned at me as she threw a leg over my hips.

   I could feel the wet hairs of her pussy grinding over my cock, and
groaned at the realization I was inches away from sliding my prick into the
beautiful, sexy woman leaning over me.  As I reached out my hands to cup
her breasts, I felt Stephanie reach her hands down, grasping my cock. 
Holding my erection straight up, she slowly lowered her pussy down my
entire length.

   "Ohhh," she groaned, and I moaned along with her when at last my entire
length was buried in her, our pubic mounds brushing together.  Stephanie
collapsed against me, throwing her face against my chest and held there,
motionless.

   Even without the rest of her body, Stephanie's pussy muscles were a
symphony of movement against the shaft of my cock.  I groaned at the
sensations of thousands of fingers teasing me and I grabbed at her fleshy
thighs, pulling her, urging her to move.

   Stephanie pulled herself up and began rocking her hips.  Her face was
frozen in a mask of pure lust, her mouth hanging agape as she moaned out
her passion.  Stephanie started thrusting her hips up and down my length,
slowly building her momentum until at last her hips were crashing down on
my own as I lay under her, slowly thrusting up to meet her movements.

   I knew I wouldn't last long at this pace, and tried to warn her.

   "If you keep that up," I moaned, "I'm not going to be able to hold off."
She shook her head, her long hair trailing behind her in a wave of yellow
and gold.

   "Harder," she panted.  "I'm almost there.  So close.  Hurry up!" The
last was shouted, as her hands beat down on my chest, her hips rocking back
and forth against mine.

   I only lasted a few more lunges before I felt a rush of semen up my
cock, as I coated her insides with spurt after spurt of my cum.

   My orgasm triggered her own, for immediately Stephanie froze above me. I
could feel the muscles in her cunt clamp down on my cock, almost painful in
their strength.  She let out a high-pitched wail as her climax shook
through her body, and suddenly fell down against me, drained for the
moment.

   We lay there together, motionless but for the shallow rise and fall of
our chests.  I could feel her heartbeat again my chest as it slowly
returned to normal.  When I felt she had calmed enough, I started to stand
to get a washcloth, but Stephanie held me in place.

   "Don't move," she said, raising her head to look at me.  "I want to stay
like this.  I want to keep you inside me all night."

   I nodded, and she returned her head to my chest.  We lay there for a few
moments, exhausted from our coupling, and slowly drifted to sleep.

   *****

   I awoke the next morning a bit disoriented.  Where was I?  My eyes
opened wide with the realization of exactly where I was and what had
happened the night before.

   I must have shaken the bed, for suddenly a sleepy voice called to me.

   "Eric?  What time is it?" I looked and saw Stephanie laying on the bed.
She was naked and bedraggled, and I could see dried flecks of my sperm and
her own juices on her legs and thighs.  She was beautiful.

   "It's early," I whispered.  "Go back to bed if you need to.  I didn't
mean to wake you."

   "No," she said, more clearly this time.  "I'm up." She looked at me,
smiling.  "Last night was...  wow."

   "That it was," I said softly.

   "Are you okay?" Stephanie asked, concerned.  I smiled, stretching out to
wipe a stray hair from her eyes.

   "I'm perfect.  You were perfect.  Last night was wonderful.  Shocking,
surprising, totally unexpected though." She giggled, her breasts doing
amazing things as they bounced and quivered on her chest.  "But wonderful."

   "Good," she said firmly.  I watched as she stood and walked to the
bathroom, the cheeks of her firm ass sliding up and down together.  I felt
my cock thicken and swell with arousal, and blushed when she turned and saw
me.

   "I can't help it," I protested mildly.  "You're so beautiful." Her face
softened, and she smiled.

   "Care to join me in the shower?" she asked, laughing as I jumped out of
bed to join her.

   We bathed together in the hotel room's tiny shower stall, and I for one
didn't mind a bit being forced together in such a small space.  We washed
slowly, each of us exploring the other's body.  There was nothing overtly
sexual about it, just two people washing each other.  Two people in love I
realized, somewhat shocked at my discovery about my feelings.  We left the
shower and slowly dried each other, clean and fresh and ready for the day.

   After we had dressed, Stephanie got a strange look on her face.

   "I don't know how to ask it," she said, clearly nervous.  "What is there
to do in this little town?" I laughed.

   "Just wait.  From everything I've heard, it's a blast.  These Cajuns
really know how to throw a Mardi Gras party." She shrugged, obviously
unconvinced, but happily took my hand as we walked across the street to the
diner where I'd eaten three days prior.

   "King Eric!" I heard as we entered the door.  Joseph was still behind
the counter, a massive pile of humanity.  I laughed when he yelled, seeing
people turning to look, trying to see who had come in the door.

   "Hello," I said, waving my hand in the air quickly.  Stephanie elbowed
me in the side.

   "You weren't kidding," she said, wide-eyed with surprise.

   "Nope," I said, laughing as we took a seat.  Betty was once again our
waitress, and she burst into laughter when she saw me.

   "You work fast," she exclaimed, seeing I had returned with a girl, and a
beautiful one at that.  "I didn't think you could do it.  Frankly, I didn't
think you'd be back this way, 'less it was after you partied yourself out
in the city.  What brings you back this way, hon?  Everything alright?" She
looked concerned for me, and I was glad to have returned.  It felt right,
somehow.

   "I'm fine.  I ran into an old friend in New Orleans," I said, giving
Stephanie a little squeeze around the waist.  "I had such a good time, I
decided to show her the real Mardi Gras."

   Betty clapped her hands, happy to have us back.  "That's wonderful," she
cried.  "Joseph!  Get some good food out here, you have a king and queen to
feed!"

   "Yes Ma'am," he shouted from the kitchen.  "I'll be right out with a
feast for our young highnesses!"

   Stephanie looked at me curiously.  "King and Queen?" she asked.  Betty
laughed as she brought us glasses of milk and a large pot of coffee.

   "You didn't know you was royalty?" she asked.  Stephanie shook her head,
a perplexed look on her face.  Betty laughed louder, drawing a few looks
from the other diners, before again sitting at our table.  She explained
the tradition of the plastic baby, but only confused Stephanie further.

   "Why was there a baby in the cake?" she asked me.  I shrugged, unsure of
the origins.

   "I've only been king for a few days," I joked, and Joseph laughed as he
brought us plates, piled high with sausage and eggs and grits.

   "It's an old tradition," he said.  "Started long time ago.  You folks
heard of Carnival?" he asked.

   "Like the big party in Rio de Janeiro?" Stephanie asked.  Joseph nodded.

   "That's the one.  You youngsters ever go to church?" I nodded, I'd gone
a few times.  "Well, you know about the three wisemen, or the three kings
from the East?  Carnival starts right after Epiphany, which is when they
found the baby Jesus, and gave him gifts.  From then until Mardi Gras is
called Carnival, being that it's a time for parties.  These parties have
been going on forever, but most of them involve finding a treasure inside a
cake, kind of symbolizes the Kings finding Jesus."

   "So the plastic baby is Jesus?" asked Stephanie.  Joseph nodded. 
Stephanie looked amazed, and I had to admit I was too.  I'd never heard
this story before.  I'd never really thought about where Mardi Gras came
from, just that it was a big party.

   "So that's why the King Cake is round and decorated up all pretty in
purple and gold in green.  Those are royalty colors, and that's why the
cake looks like a crown."

   "That's great," said Stephanie.  "I never knew any of that." She looked
up at me, smiling.  "This is so much better than Bourbon Street."

   We quickly finished our breakfasts and left the diner, stuffed to the
gills.  Betty had told us if we head out down the road it was only a mile
or so to all the festivities.

   Stephanie and I spent the day with the townspeople.  We watched the
"Courir de Mardi Gras" which is the Mardi Gras run I'd heard about.  It was
amazing, a huge mob of people, easily six hundred people.  Aside from the
two of us, nearly everyone else had dressed up in costumes and masks.

   We all ran around the countryside, knocking on farmhouse doors and
begging for food to put in the gumbo for that night's party.  Often we had
to earn the food, so we would sing or dance for it.  Sometimes it was a
sack of onions, other times the farm family would throw us a live chicken,
but we always got the food.  We walked back down the street, loaded with
sausage and onions and chickens and rice, exhausted but happy.

   Stephanie and I returned to the diner that afternoon, where Joseph
greeted us with a big smile and two large slices of King Cake, which we
greedily ate, much to his delight.  Satisfied, we returned to our hotel,
where we made love again, before taking a short nap.

   We held hands and whispered quietly as the two of us walked back to the
festival.  There had been talk of something amazing happening, some kind of
world record.

   When we got there, we were disappointed to learn we'd missed it.  As
Betty had told me, the town had worked on and baked "the World's Largest
King Cake," but sadly, there was nothing left of it, but a few instant
snapshots someone had shot.

   "It must have been eighty feet long if it would have been straight, and
at least a food wide," Betty told us.  They had sold the pieces, but
everything had been gone since that afternoon.  "But I saved you two a
piece to share, seeing as how you're the King and Queen" she whispered. 
"Don't tell Joseph." We laughed, and promised we wouldn't.

   That evening was the big fais-do-do which was their big dance.  We
jumped and danced and partied and ate lots of the gumbo we'd worked so hard
for that afternoon.  Betty and Joseph were there too, having closed the
diner for the evening.  Every time we would see them, Joseph would wave and
give us a big grin.

   Finally the evening wore down, and we started to say goodbye to
everyone. I had to be heading back, and had to drop Stephanie off on
campus, so we needed to get an early start the next morning.  As we were
heading off to the hotel, Joseph ran to catch up with us.

   "Hold on," he called, panting as he lugged his large frame over the
sidewalk.  We slowed, waiting for him to catch up.

   "I'm sorry you youngsters didn't get a chance to see the big King Cake
this afternoon, but I saved you piece.  Just don't tell Betty, okay?" I
smiled and thanked him he handed me a large piece, wrapped in wax paper.  I
laughed, promising we wouldn't say anything to Betty the next morning when
we stopped at the diner, before heading back to the real world.

   *****

   Almost seven years have come and gone since that trip to the Big Easy. I
dropped Stephanie off at her dorm that night, but we never lost touch
again. She got her degree, and I was there in the audience, sitting by her
parents, cheering her on.

   We moved in together the summer after her graduation, and two years ago,
near our new home in Eunice, Louisiana, standing under the blue February
sky, surrounded by revelers and the new World's Largest King Cake, I asked
her to marry me, as Joseph and Betty watched on, smiling with pride.

   I figured they deserved to be there, after what Joseph had said and done
for me.

   The morning we had to leave Eunice after our first Mardi Gras together,
I had gone into the diner to grab some rolls and coffee.  Betty wasn't
there, but as always, Joseph was.  As I was paying for the food, he looked
me in the eye.

   "Mr.  King?" he said seriously, and I stopped counting change to look at
him.  "I knew you was a good man when you came in here, but when you came
back with Miss Stephanie, I knew you found a good girl."

   "She is a good girl," I agreed, grinning widely.

   "You do right by her," he said, waving his bony finger at me.  "You be
good to her, and love her, cause I been watching you two, and that girl,
she loves you.  You make sure you treat her right, and you make sure you
don't ever lose her.  You hear me?"

   I did hear him.  It startled me, but I realized I had lost her once
before, and didn't like it.  And when Stephanie and I got married last
February, I promised to never lose her again.

   And I don't think I ever will.
   The End