Chapter 1: The End & The Beginning May, 2006 & May,1975

May 2006, Sunrise at the Lake

Darryl awoke to the almost inaudible buzz and vibration of his wristwatch alarm. As usual, his nude body was neatly spooned with the beautiful and equally nude body of his wife of nine years. His morning semi-erection was cradled as neatly between the cheeks of her shapely bottom as a silver punch ladle in a velvet presentation case. His left hand cupped her left breast, held there by both of her hands, where she had draped him across herself like a human coverlet.

He looked lovingly at her, and although her 40th birthday loomed just ahead, her body didn't betray her age. She was as shapely and firm as when he had first made love to her a decade before, and she had seemed young even then. In part, this was a result of the healthy diet and regular gym and yoga program she had adopted to survive the rigors of her full touring schedule as a musical superstar. Even now that she toured only one month a year, she kept a home gym and a personal trainer. It was too structured a program for him, but God, he loved the results on her.

He leaned over and inhaled her scent and the fragrance of her hair. He never got tired of it. He gently started nuzzling her neck and nibbling her ear. One eye opened; she rolled her head back to catch him in a kiss. "Hadn't you better leave before my husband gets home?''

"Too late, he's already here."

"Is he mad?"

"Nah, horny old bastard just wants a little, too."

"What the hell, the more stiff cock to start a girl's morning, the better I say. Speaking of, want me to take care of your best friend there?" She reached and put an affectionate hand on his now full morning erection.

"Later, you randy old hussy, didn't I already take care of you once this week?"

"I love you, you old fart, but the day you only fuck me once a week, then it's God help the paper boy."

It was pretty much their standard morning fare. Hardly likely to get them a spot on the Comedy Network, it was their continuing joy at being together, bubbling over into a happy celebration. It was a happiness that seemed their destiny from childhood, and yet had been lost and found and threatened yet again. Both of them knew by what tiny margins their happiness had been secured, so each new day was cause for new joy.

But this was not just any morning. This was their morning. That particular May morning that was now their anniversary but had held a special significance long before their marriage. "Happy 'Us Day, '" he whispered as he nibbled her ear lobe, "Shall I open the curtains?"

"Yes, my love."

Ironically they slept most nights with the curtains open, but on this night, they liked the added drama of opening them. Darryl reached over, hit a switch, and the floor to ceiling draperies, covering the entire wall, gradually opened. It was almost totally black outside, with only the first hint of dawn in the sky.

She turned to him with a little smile. "Do you think they will be there, on the dock, like us? I think I'll cry if they are."

"And I will be just a little disappointed if they aren't. But they will form their own friendship with the lake and the dawn as we did. Now, my love, how will you greet the dawn?"

"The same way I choose every year; I wish to greet the dawn on our special day with the love of my life inside me. Make love to me, Darryl, beautiful love."

And the two, man and woman, friends, lovers, husband and wife, began a familiar dance. Each other's body was comfortably familiar and yet still fascinating and exciting. What experience brought was timing and balance. She would need more time to reach her peak; therefore, she received more time. His time came later and in measured amounts.

Courtney, like most women, wanted to kiss a lot. Their love making always started with a generous round of kissing, deep, passionate, lip-chewing, tongue-tangling, breath-sharing kissing. And it lasted until she indicated she was ready to move on. Moving on in Darryl's case meant moving on to kissing the rest of her, which was fine with him, because there wasn't a single square inch of Courtney he didn't like to kiss.

Sunrise is short, so their pace was more rapid than it might have been otherwise. Darryl had to forgo his favorite leisurely tour of her neck and shoulder in favor of a more direct route to her breasts. He loved her breasts, their roundness and firmness belied her years, their softness and the large firm nipples called to him. He could lose himself in their warmth and womanly scent. She held his head to her with both hands, as she looked down at him tenderly. He teased her nipples by alternately using his tongue, his lips and his teeth. Courtney liked all of these; in fact, she liked having her nipples played with a lot. They were hotwired directly to her hidden female treasures; as a result, she was already quite wet. A mutual favorite was for him to simply suckle like an infant, which never failed to get her eyes closed, her head thrown back and her breath reduced to a series of little gasps.

"Oh Darryl," she gasped, "I'm already so wet, I could take you now; I want you now."

"Right on time, as always, my darling, the sun is rising."

She reached and took his organ in her hand. "I see the sun is not the only thing rising."

He turned toward the window and sat with his legs out straight and together. She turned the same way and straddled his legs, sitting in his lap and impaling herself on his erection. Thus joined in sexual union and held in loving embrace, they watched another May sunrise over "their" lake. They watched silently as the light shifted through the delicate palette of sunrise colors that reflected off the lake's still waters and flooded their bedroom. The richness, yet subtlety of the range of colors mirrored so perfectly the love of these two whose relationship began with a kiss on this very lake, on a morning just like this, when they were eight years old.

The light was now just bright enough to see the end of the dock. The figures of a little boy and a little girl holding hands could just be made out. Darryl blinked once to be sure. "They're there, all right. I suppose it really had to be." He only heard a swallow in reply. He looked, and her eyes were misting.

Suddenly she gasped, and he turned back in time to see the little girl kiss the little boy on the cheek. She wept openly now. "Hold me, Darryl, I suddenly feel old."

"You're not old, my love. I have the body of a beautiful young woman in my arms."

"Make me feel it; make me feel young again, Darryl, make love with all the raw passion you ever felt for me."

He realized that what she was looking for was the awe, the obsessive, sometimes clumsy worship of her body that a woman gets from a young man overwhelmed by her beauty. Not difficult, really, in his case; worship of her body had never lain far below the surface. Now he just released his feelings. He lost himself in her body through every sense; he felt her smoothness; he smelled her scents; he tasted her essence; he listened to her breathing; he looked at her beauty as though for the first time. Losing himself in her beauty, he found himself greatly aroused by the object of his worship.

Courtney in turn was the beneficiary of all this tactile homage in the form of kisses and licks and fondles and caresses, and she appreciated every one of them. But to be the object of such adoration is the greatest aphrodisiac of them all, and soon she found herself on fire, absolutely on fire with everything female in her crying out for fulfillment. "Darryl, damn you, FUCK ME NOW, oh now."

He felt much the same urgency, so he immediately got between her legs and without the least pretense at ceremony or embellishment; he lined his cock up and thrust forward. She thrust towards him, and her relief upon him filling her was audible. Now they fucked, pure and simple; style and technique were ignored in favor of physical release. It was like temporarily throwing off the burden of civilization, society, Cosmopolitan, and returning to the jungle. And it felt very, very good.