Chapter 1

Tara Johnson leaned against the window sill and watched her guests chatting on the wide porch of the lodge. They’re older than I am, she thought, but they still know how to have fun. So what’s wrong with me? Tara was only forty-three, but she felt like a very old woman. The only spark of life, she realized gloomily, was in her cunt which, in spite of all her efforts, persisted in thinking of itself as young. Right now it was creaming heavily, aching for fulfillment, even after twenty years of abstinence. Damn it all, how long would it take before she was released from this unwanted lust? She hated men, never wanted a man in her life again, but her unruly body defied her cool, calculating mind.

Tara tried to turn her thoughts away from herself, to concentrate on her current crop of guests. There were only three of them, four if you counted the dog. It was just the beginning of the tourist season, early June, but by August her Canadian fishing resort would be overflowing with guests, overweight and out-of-condition city people trying to recapture some feeling for Nature. Her three guests today were typical. Clyde and Becky Simmons, a middle-aged couple from Portland, Oregon were doing their best to acquire a tan, but only succeeded in passing from wormy white to sunburned red. Harold Davis, a shy bachelor of around forty-five, showed a little more sense, exposing himself to the sun only gradually, but even in full fishing gear he looked clumsy and inexpert, betraying his urban habits. Right now his dog Rags was taking a crap right in the middle of the carefully tended front lawn which sloped gracefully from lodge to lake. Tara resisted the impulse to throw her shoe at the mutt—Mustn’t insult the guests!

With a sigh she turned away from the window and started across the large handsome main room of the lodge; time to get to the kitchen and start lunch for the guests. She was only halfway across the room when the big oak door opened and a stranger stepped inside. Tara gawked. Whoever he was, he hadn’t made a reservation. What the hell was he doing here, fifty miles from the nearest town? She and the stranger approached each other cautiously, and Tara found herself staring impolitely but irresistibly.

The stranger was a young man, not even a man, really, he looked to be no more than eighteen or nineteen at the most. And he was incredibly handsome. Tara couldn’t help but notice. Tall for his age, a little taller than she was, his young body was already taking on adult and virile characteristics—broadening shoulder, trim waist and hips, firmly muscled arms and legs. He had a nice tan, attractive features, naturally light blond hair which was long and modish. She liked the way his firm limbs showed beneath tight blue jeans and blue work shirt. What a handsome kid! The little girls at his school must cream their panties every time they see him, Tara thought with amusement. But it wouldn’t do for her to gawk like that. She was old enough to be his mother.

“Hello,” she said, adopting a formal smile of welcome. “What can I do for you?”

The boy was staring just as rudely as she had.

His voice cracked a little as he replied. “Are you Miss Tara Johnson?”

“Yes,” she said, amused by his shyness, “I’m Miss Johnson, I own this lodge. Were you looking for a room?”

The boy reddened and said timidly, “I guess you wouldn’t know me. I’m Vince ... Mother.”

Mother! Tara went stiff with shock. It just couldn’t be! And yet the name “Vince,” the uncanny resemblance, now that she noticed it, to the man she had once loved...

It all came back to her in a flash, the events of twenty years before which she had tried so hard to bury and forget. She fought against the memory, but it rushed over her, bringing back that former life she had rejected, her life as a complete and fulfilled female.

Born and raised in a very small town, Tara had dreamed throughout her adolescence of getting away to the city, leading a glamorous and exciting life. She was ashamed of the fact that her mother kept chickens in the back yard, ashamed that her father was only a worker in a pulp mill. She wanted to rise above her origins, to be beautiful and famous, maybe even a movie star. Well, she didn’t make it to Hollywood, but she did make it as far as Seattle, and while she never became an actress, she did become a damned good stenographer. She might even have become a private secretary to a company president, a successful career girl, if she hadn’t met Todd Adams.

Tara was twenty-three then, doing well in her profession and happy, she thought, to be living alone in her small city apartment, doing just as she pleased with her time and money. She dated occasionally, but she was not interested in marriage, certainly not yet. She’d seen what happened to her own mother, who’d married at twenty one, had seven kids, and become an old woman by the time she was thirty. That life was not for Tara. She had every intention of remaining free, having fun, enjoying her youth. But all her wise intentions were forgotten when Todd came into her life. The moment she saw him, she felt an irresistible physical attraction, and as their acquaintance grew, she knew she was powerless to resist this man.

They had met when they literally ran into each other outside a department store in downtown Seattle. Tara was emerging from the store in a hurry, her arms piled so high with packages that she could hardly see where she was going. The next thing she knew, she had sat down hard on the sidewalk, her packages flying in all directions. Looming over her, still standing but swaying from the impact of their collision, was the most attractive man she’d ever seen in her life. She only briefly noted his good looks, however, because she was angry.

“Thanks a lot!” she snapped, attempting to rise. She gave a little squeak of pain. God, it felt like something was broken!

The young man was full of concern. “Here, let me help you!” he cried, extending a hand and helping her slowly to her feet. “I’m terribly sorry! It was all my fault! Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know,” said Tara grimly. “Is it possible to break your ass?”

They both started laughing. “Well, I’m not a doctor,” he said and grinned, “but I’d be glad to examine it.”

“I bet you would!” chuckled Tara. “Wait, let me move around a little.” She took a few steps gingerly, and decided she’d live. “I guess it’s intact.”

“I hope so!” he exclaimed. “It’s too pretty to break!”

Tara blushed, but to her relief he turned away and began gathering up her scattered packages. He wouldn’t let her carry them. “I’d like to make amends,” he said. “Let me give you a ride home, then take you to dinner.”

Tara debated. She hesitated to go out with a total stranger, but on the other hand, he was so pleasant, so polite, and so damned good-looking! Tall, muscular, blond, blue-eyed, only a little older than she was—he was almost the incarnation of her girlish fantasies. Small and dark herself, Tara felt, in this case, that opposites attract very much.

“Well, all right,” she said, “but I hope we don’t have to do a lot of sitting.”

He grinned, making her head swim. “I know a nice quiet place where we can stand up at the bar and have sandwiches.”

“Perfect,” said Tara, rubbing her sore buttocks.

“By the way,” he said, steering her toward his car, “my name’s Todd Adams.”

“Tara Johnson,” she said.

Tara enjoyed herself immensely that evening, in spite of her injuries. After three martinis she didn’t feel much pain, and Todd was very amusing, a lot of fun to be with. Never in her life had she felt so powerfully attracted to a man. Before, she had always been able to maintain her self-possession, and she had never been tempted to go too far with a date. Certainly she had normal urges, but she had been able to control them. Now she told herself to be very careful: Todd Adams might be the one man she couldn’t resist. But as the night wore on, as she drank more, she felt her resistance melting dangerously.

He took her home around midnight, and Tara allowed him to take her key and open the door of her apartment for her. After that, it seemed impolite to refuse him a nightcap. She mixed two Scotches and handed one to Todd, who had made himself comfortable on the sofa.

“Pardon me if I stand up,” she smiled.

“Oh, Christ, are you still sore?” he said. “I hate myself.”

“You shouldn’t,” replied Tara. “It was really my fault. All those packages, I couldn’t see where I was going. Anyhow, nothing’s broken, I’m sure of that. I’ll just have one hell of a bruise for a few days.”

“Why don’t you let the good doctor examine it?” he leered, using a heavy German accent.

Tara laughed, but she felt alarmed. Here was the pitch, but how would she respond? She felt herself going warm and giddy all over, wanting him like she’d wanted no other man, yet she hesitated to take the risk. Since up to now she’d had no intention of fucking, she used no contraceptives and had none available. Really, it was too risky. She simply couldn’t afford to get knocked up. Yet she found herself aching for his touch.

“No thank you, Herr Doctor,” she said and grinned. “I think I’ll recover without medical help. I could use a little sympathy, though.”

He was off the sofa, strolling over to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Tara,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

Tara felt her whole body boil as their lips met and his tongue slipped into her mouth. She managed to set her drink on the mantel, then put her arms around his broad shoulders, feeling the firmness of his body through his suit jacket. Oh, God, what a man, she thought feverishly. If ever I gave in to anybody, he’d be the one! But she resisted the idea. It was foolish, risky, and he was almost a stranger. Todd’s exploring hands found her large firm breasts, caressing them gently, and Tara felt her pussy creaming. God, how she wanted him!

Looking back on it later, she realized how cool he’d played it. He didn’t rush her, didn’t try to force the scene. Somehow he sensed her hesitation, and instead of pawing her or trying to remove her clothes, he instead broke the kiss, took her hand, and led her to the sofa. He handed her her drink and picked up his own, being careful not to sit too close to her.

“Are you afraid of men?” he asked gently.

“No,” said Tara, her trembling voice belying her statement, “at least I don’t think so”

“If you don’t want to, then I can wait.”

Tara was thrilled. He understood, he respected her. Impulsively she leaned over and kissed him quickly. “Thank you, Todd, There aren’t many guys like you around any more. Most of them want only one thing.”

He laughed. “Now what could that be?”

Tara laughed, too, feeling perfectly at ease with him. She didn’t resist when he moved closer and put his arm around her again, and she didn’t hesitate to murmur her excitement when he kissed her, using his tongue skillfully in her mouth. She realized vaguely that she was drunk, that she was perilously close to losing control of herself, but she didn’t care. He was so attractive, so pleasant, and the way he held her was so exciting. Todd’s hands deftly worked on the buttons of her dress, on the hook of her bra, and Tara felt cool air rushing over her bare breasts, then his warm hands kneading and caressing the soft white flesh. Blushing a little, she opened her eyes and looked down at herself.

Tara had always been secretly proud of her tits. They weren’t grotesquely huge, but they were quite large and firm and perfectly shaped, the nipples dainty and strawberry pink. She felt proud now as Todd wonderingly cupped and caressed them.

“Beautiful, beautiful,” he murmured, bending low to kiss the creamy flesh. He flicked out his tongue and deftly lashed the pink nipples. Tara gave a little gasp of excitement. No one had ever done that to her before, and it felt great. Encouraged by her obvious pleasure, Todd sucked one rosy nipple into his mouth and began sucking it. To her astonishment, Tara felt intense excitement. Her pussy creamed, wetting the crotch of her panties, and she dug her nails into Todd’s shoulders. Oh, shit, she’d have to stop creaming like that, or there’d be a stain on the back of her skirt when she stood up—What if he notices? It would be embarrassing. Yet she just couldn’t bear to push him away, it felt so good. He sucked the other nipple, too, and Tara sighed and felt her vaginal juices soaking through her slip and dress onto the sofa. Oh, hell, she thought dizzily, why worry about it? Why not just enjoy? She vaguely sensed that she would never again encounter a lover like Todd. “Tara!” His voice was husky and excited. He eased her down on her back, slowly and gently raised her skirt, then began easing down her panties.

Tara was filled with sudden alarm. ‘Todd, no!” She gently pushed at his shoulders.

“Take it easy, honey,” he crooned, “don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything. Just give you a little pleasure, that’s all...”