ICE VEINS (or "Nick the Stalker")
 
Author: Limonize

E-mail: spiral@spinfinder.com
 
Rating: NC-17
 
Summary: Nick, the stalker

Authors note: This story presumes that Lulu is California, in a new
life, AFTER the Hallowe'en party ("Whipped, whipped, whipped")
(could be soundtracked by "Creepin' Up On You" by Darren Hayes!)
 
**WARNING** This is contains extended, detailed, explicit sex along
with extreme profanity. A couple of members of this board upon
reviewing it have urged me to go ahead and post it anyway, claiming
they did not believe it would offend the majority. On this feedback,
I am going ahead and posting it, but would like to emphasize the
following - please read the information on the rating carefully and DO
NOT PROCEED IF YOU SUSPECT the foregoing may be uncomfortable or
offensive to you. If anyone does in fact find it offensive after
heeding this warning, please contact me at my mailbox and let me know.



--+--



Part 1

Nick is peering up at her, over a large hedge surrounding her
apartment complex. His penetrating eyes are locked directly on her.

Dana glances down and sees him again. Only his penetrating eyes and
hair are visible to her . You fucking perv! she thinks to herself.
She angrily picks up the phone and dials 9-1-1. She shouts into the
phone agitatedly. "I want to report a peeping Tom! Er.. I mean - a
stalker! There's this asshole looking through my window again…"

~ ~ ~

"Dr. Meade here returning your call, Mr -..?" Trevor Meade glances at
his wall clock. It's getting close to twelve, and he's feeling
impatient to get to attend an important luncheon date.

" – Fallin. Burton Fallin. Dr. Meade?" announces Burton. Burton
feels relieved to be finally talking directly to Nicholas'
psychiatrist. "I realize you're probably a busy man – like me – "
Burton chuckles nervously, "I..ah. need to talk to you about
Nicholas, my son…"

Trevor Meade hesitates, momentarily confused. "Oh, yes – Nick!"
realising finally which of his patients Burton is referring to. "I'm
headed out, Mr. Fallin – you can call me Trevor - but if you would
like to stop by late this afternoon…" his voice trails off briefly, as
he reaches for his appointment book, "I'd be happy to see you. I can
set aside twenty minutes for us."

"Five okay?" replied Burton.

"Five." Trevor confirms, penciling it in after his four o'clock
appointment. He hears Burton hang up. He notes that Burton's voice
has a deeper, more resonant quality than Nick's and subconsciously
notes that Burton probably takes himself a little less seriously than
Nick. But there is also an unmistakably similar quality to their
parting manner. A certain kind of finality. It will be interesting
to meet Nick's father, muses Trevor.

~ ~ ~

"I don't know how to say this.." begins Burton, looking around Trevor
Meade's office, noting the décor is rather sparse. Burton then turns
to face him directly, "but ah…I received a phone call at the end of
last week from a certain court prosecutor – he's a friend of mine –
about a young lady.." Burton's expression is one of immense pain.
He scowls so deeply that his eyebrows are touching. A tear wells, and
he rubs it away, as he tries maintain his composure.

"Take your time," says Trevor, surmising that whatever has upset
Burton so deeply, must be a doozy.

"She..." Burton shades his face from view with his hand, but
continues anyway, "She told him that Nicholas is STALKING her - and
that she has reported him to the police, after warning him repeatedly
to stop."

"I see." Trevor adjusts his eyeglasses, and gives Burton a couple of
moments to collect himself. He asks Burton in an even voice: "Can
you tell me a little more about this? - I cannot discuss with you what
Nick shares with me in therapy, but what you tell me may be helpful."

Burton finds it difficult to focus on explaining the situation
unemotionally. He reflects briefly on the effect that Lulu's
departure has had on Nick, and continues: "Ever since this woman that
he used to work with - and was pretty close to - moved away, Nicholas
has been very distracted. He's..he behaves strangely. He's a lot
moodier these days…which is not unlike Nicholas - with me, at any
rate – but until now… well - it's rarely impacted on his work.
Really, he's a pretty stable kid, considering." Burton adds to this to
underscore the fact that his son is normal.

"Considering?" Trevor asks him.

"Well, my ex-wife and I…" Burton is uncomfortable discussing his
family life with anyone, let alone strangers. Trevor certainly
qualifies as a stranger.

"This conversation is privileged, Mr. Fallin. I DO want to be of
help, if I can." says Trevor, trying to assure him.

Burton relaxes somewhat. "Nicholas' mother got sick and died when he
was a boy," he explains. "Nicholas became quite withdrawn and rather
uncommunicative. Not in a big way," adds Burton for good measure.
"However, my wife and I were estranged even prior to that event."

"Nick has some hostility over that?" asks Trevor.

"Yeah." Burton smiles sheepishly, and stands to begin slowly pacing,
and turns to the side. "Yes, Trevor, he certainly does!" Burton
smiles at him wryly, as he slides his hands into his pockets and
stiffens them. Trevor has got that one right, Burton concedes.
"Nicholas has obviously…discussed some of that with you, then?" Burton
asks him self-consciously.

"Spousal separations and divorces often leave children feeling
responsible or abandoned, or hostile - and occasionally in complete
denial.- and combinations thereof - it's a very, classic reaction."
Trevor elucidates, trusting this will ease Burton's obvious guilt a bit.

But it does little to assuage Burton.

"Is he doing this to get back at me?" asks Burton tensely, now
staring out of the window, folding his arms.

"I doubt that, Burton – I can call you Burton, can I?" Trevor looks up
to watch Burton's reaction to his answer.

"Ah, sure. Well…" Burton hesitates, "so…why is he doing something
like this?"

"If he IS doing what this young woman says, it's likely a response to
feeling great powerlessness in his most important relationships."
answers Trevor.

"Powerlessness? Burton retorts quickly, "I don't understand! Nicholas
has the world at his fingertips. And he's a very good lawyer!"
Burton is confused, and also feeling somewhat angry and frustrated.

Trevor is taken aback at how palpable Nick's problems seem, listening
to Burton talk about his son. Burton appears unwilling, or unable to
relate to Nick's powerless feelings and their likely origins.
Although Burton is not his client, he thinks that he should be
somebody's. Trevor elects to explains to him simply: "That says
little about his ability to take command the intimate relationships of
his life in a fulfilling way."

"You mean like his mother and me?" asks Burton, feeling very reluctant
to examine any role he might be playing in Nick's situation.

"That's exactly what I mean."

"I see." says Burton, continuing to stare for a long time, out of the
window..


~ ~ ~


As Burton sits across from the young, female accuser in Hart Langley's
office, he is struck by her startling resemblance to Lulu Archer. He
finds himself staring at her a great deal, realizing that Nicholas has
being doing the same thing, lately - but for entirely different reasons.

Hart speaks first.
"Dana, this is Burton Fallin, Nicholas's father. Burton has indicated
to me how much he appreciates you agreeing to meet with him here to
help solve a mutual problem: Nicholas' behavior toward you."

"Hello" said Dana, with a trace of sourness. She knew Nicholas'
father's was not to be blamed for Nicholas' actions, but was less than
thrilled to be meeting him, anyway.

Burton was not deterred by her attitude, appreciating only too well
that he had better extend the olive branch for the Fallins, if she
were Attilla the Hun.

"First, let me say, that I'm so sorry to hear that Nicholas has done
things to bother you" begins Burton in a low voice. "He…doesn't
normally behave the way he has been behaving lately and I'm so very
sorry he's putting you through this. Really, I am!" Burton says this
very empathically, although he is thinking primarily about Nick and
how to avert any further problems from Dana.

Dana relaxes her guard a little.

"He scares the shit out of me, you know?! It's like, when I get out
of work… everywhere I go…he's always lurking around! She pulls her
skirt end over her knees more tightly.

"Has..has he ever said anything to you, or..?" Burton asked,
intensely curious.

"He walked up to me one day – it was the first time I ever saw him –"
Dana recounts again for Burton's benefit – she has told the story to a
few people now . "When I was outside Tracy's Boutique, going through
the "Specials" clothing rack, just out of the blue this guy – your son
- he walks up to me and says, "You look so-o beautiful!!" She pauses
to gauge Burton's reaction. Seeing none, she adds, "And he just
stands there, staring at me…"

Burton is tempted to insert a comment, but catches himself just in time.

Dana does not feel as creeped out by Burton's close presence as she
does by Nicholas' despite the family resemblance – the foreheads with
their center crease - but it bothers her that she has been asked to
meet with Hart Langley and Burton Fallin at Hart's strong suggestion.
Men tend to stick together, she thinks. Although she feels confident
that Hart is clearly trying to work out a solution which will put an
end to the problem, she isn't sure if the meeting will have value.
She has it firmly in her feelings, that Nicholas Fallin is a weirdo,
probably capable of anything, and she had a hard time believing Burton
can or will doing anything which could help.

Hart interjects:

"And then what, Dana?"

"Well, a couple of days later, I'm in Starbucks, sucking back a
cappuccino, just having a good time with my friend, Roxanne, and he
appears out of nowhere, and invites himself to sit at our table. He
was all dressed up and he looked pretty good, but he had this weird stare…

"That tended to unnerve you?" offers Hart.

"Yeah…it unnerved me. So, I, we - Roxanne and I – we told him, sorry,
but we were just getting ready to leave anyway."

"And so you left?"

"Well, he walked away, and so we decided to just stay there and talk
more more - since he wasn't there anymore anyway." Dana continues,
now wondering what Burton is thinking. Burton chuckles nervously. He
wants to get on Dana's good side – if in fact, she has one.

"Not just taking any bum that comes along!" quips Burton with a grin.
I don't see how this relates to what Dana has just said.

Dana now smiles as well, still feeling self-conscious, "Well, we
didn't know him, and, you know…"

"Absolutely!" says Burton. "A young woman can't be too careful
nowadays! It was a little different when I was younger, but there's
some very dangerous types out there, and young ladies have to be
careful!"
Hart notes how skillfully Burton is making it clear, that his son is
not even remotely in that category.

"But then, when I left, just as I was coming close to my place, there
he was on the sidewalk just outside my place. I was really freaked
out!" continues Dana.

"A little embarrassed, too, maybe?" volunteers Burton sympathetically.

"Yeah. That too." she admits ruefully.

"I told him "Look asshole, I don't know what you think you're doing,
following me around, but just get lost!"

Hart asks: "What did Nicholas say then?"

"He said something like, it's okay, I'm not...trying to follow you
around or anything, I just wanted to give you something."

Burton asks, leaning forward in his hair, "He gave you something?
What was it?" .

"It was this pink top with a heart on it – the same one that I'd spent
a lot of time looking at, at Tracy's, that first time I saw him."

"And that was too personal a gift for someone you didn't know?"
offered Hart, helping her to express her discomfort.

"Yeah. Yeah, it definitely was." replied Dana. "I mean, I don't even
know his name, you know?"

"I see." replies Burton.

Hart continues to draw the story from her.

Burton is temporarily lost in his own thoughts. What is the matter
with this woman, calling 9-1-1? Can't she understand that Nicholas is
just simply a bit fascinated by her, or has a schoolboy crush on her?

Dana continues, and Burton is suddenly snapped out of his private
thoughts, by her last phrase:

" – I thought he was going to jack off or something!"

"Er pardon me, I kind of missed what you said just before then?"
Burton asks as he tries to conceal the 3-bell alarm that has just gone
off in his legally-trained head.

Hart steps in, seeing Burton's well-concealed panic. "Uh Dana, what
was Nick doing, exactly?"

"Well, he was standing outside my place, looking over the bushes up to
my window. Just the top of his head. He could see me see him, but he
didn't go away. He just kept staring at me."

"How long did he stay there?" Hart asked.

"A couple of minutes. But it was really CREEPY. I mean, I already
told him to get lost before, you know? And I thought he might be
jacking off behind the bushes, or something."

"What made you think that he was?'

"Well, I couldn't see his whole face, and he wouldn't show it. Maybe
he thought I didn't know who it was, but I knew – I knew that stare.
She clenched her jaw, as she elaborated: "And there was this guy, when
I was going to high school – he used to come and watch me through my
bedroom window and jack off, so I thought he might be doing that too!"
Dana was beginning to feel panicky and defensive herself now, with
both men staring at her while she described the scenario. Damn! Why
did I ever agree to come here?? she thought to herself.

Burton broke the awkward silence.

"It must have been rather frightening for you, not knowing what he was
doing there, or why!" He gave her a knowing look.

"Yeah, damn rights! Damn rights it was! Like he never said what he
wanted, he just kept staring! You know?"

"Do you think you would have been able to hear him, if he'd called
out?" asks Burton.

"I don't know…probably. But I had already told him to get lost.
Like, what did he think he was doing? And so sneaky, like – like –
and like he thought I wouldn't figure it out? That it was him?" Dana
was feeling defensive. Somehow it didn't sound so bad, what Nick had
done, but he had no right..

Hart wants to wrap things up, but he knows there is more that Burton
has to hear. He twists his body uncomfortably and re-folds his legs.

"Was that the last time you saw, Nicholas?" he questions.

"No. There was two more times. If it hadn't been for that, I
wouldn't even know his name…" Dana replies.

It occurs to Burton, that this woman might have ice water in her
veins. If she does, Nicholas is facing an even worser problem than
fascination with this Lulu-lookalike - being on probation, and being
an "officer of the court" who is expected not to bring the practice of
law into disrepute. He winces inwardly, scared of what she might
recount next.

A stalking charge would not be a good thing.


End of Part 1
 
--+--
 
Part 2 (or "Nick the Stalker")

Nick, are you having any problems?" interjects Dr. Trevor Meade
quickly, before Nick hangs up on him. Nick is cancelling his second
session in two weeks. This, in tandem with Burton's visit, causes
Trevor to feel doubly concerned over his patient's therapeutic progress.

"What makes you ask that? asks Nick a little warily. He isn't used to
hearing much emotion out of Meade, particularly tones of concern. It
makes it him somewhat uncomfortable.

Nick has problems, but it is a challenge for Trevor to get Nick moving
through his biggest problem, namely, his being extremely tightlipped.
Trevor sees a lot of mistrust in his patients, but it tends to abate
after three or four sessions. Nick is a tough nut to crack, as the
saying goes. "Well, this is the second appointment in a row that
you've cancelled. - I find that when people are cancelling something
more than once, there is often something they would rather avoid
dealing with in therapy – sometimes its a subconscious avoidance.
Just a thought."

Just a thought, JUST a thought! echoes Nick in his mind. "Maybe I'm
avoiding your disgusting fees, Trevor – ever think of that?" Nick
tries to joke his way out a possible confrontation with Meade. Not
very successfully.

"I don't doubt for a minute that in corporate law, you charge your
substantial fees too, Nick - you probably double your price for rich
widows! - you've learned your craft and so have I, so let's cut to it
– are you avoiding our sessions for more than scheduling reasons?"
challenges Trevor.

So Meade has a sense of humor after all – touché! - Nick muses to himself.

"I guess it's possible" Nick answers cautiously, deciding to take a
chance that Meade wasn't going to press him too much harder than he
felt comfortable with.

"You're not doing yourself a favor by avoiding therapy in this way -
commit, Nick! – you know you've made some real progress already. Stay
on a roll!" urged Trevor.

"I suppose I can swing by on Friday, if you've got an afternoon spot,
and IF I don't get a court thing sprung on me." Nick replies, secretly
glad that Meade thinks he has made some progress. He hates to admit
to himself that he cares a good deal about what Meade thinks, now that
the guy knows some of his secrets. Actually, that's why he wants to
avoid Meade.

Meade has too much power.

~ ~ ~

Nick is sitting in his office at Fallin & Fallin , with his feet
uncharacterically up on the credenza, while he rocks back in his chair
mindlessly. He notices that Burton has has been paying more attention
to him in the past week than usual. He wonders if his father is still
unhappy about Shannon's departure. Although Nick had been unenthused
about having Shannon hanging around his father, he admits to himself
that he doesn't like the glumness that he sees settling into Burton's
muscles as he pores over his documents. It gives him a hunched,
haunted look. He has also been looking a lot more tired than usual,
as well, Nick reflects.

Nick reflects on whether he will live as long as Burton. And if he
does, what will his health be like? And who he will spend his time
with? The future is such an impenetrable veil, concludes Nick. We
all think we know where we're going to be - and then we wind up at a
place like LSP. It could be worse, I suppose, he concludes.

Nick continues to daydream, thinking back to when Jesse was shot – and
how Lulu had distracted the gunman - Lulu?!? Cancel that image! Nick
reaches for a much less disturbing daydream. He thinks about Alvin
and the first time he went to a 12-step meeting with him - how the
smell of sharp, low-grade coffee permeated that room, just like at
LSP. Alvin probably stole that awful coffee from them! No, he
wouldn't really do something like that, mused Nick, but he chuckles at
the ridiculous image of the "Great Leader and Defender of Children at
LSP" stealing 12-step bags of coffee, to keep himself and his grand
team of lawyers revved up on caffeine -.

"Nick!!"

Nick cranes his head around. It is Gretchen breaking into his idle
ruminations. "What's up?" Nicks asks her in an off-hand way, putting
his feet back down on the floor reluctantly, swiveling around to face her.

""There's a Mr. Langley (?) to see you."
Nick gulps, and hopes Gretchen isn't paying enough attention to
notice. He sits up straighter. "Send him in." he says watching
Gretchen's face for a sign of reaction or interest in the matter.

Nick knows that Langley works in the criminal court division, from
Clay's contact with the criminal courts. He also remembers that Hart
has already left two messages on Nick's machine, which Nick has
decided to avoid until his session with Meade. Hart's calls were
obviously not meant for Clay.

"Hello, Nicholas." Hart greets him from the door, and then walked in
unceremoniously and pulls out a chair to sit down. "I'm Hart Langley.
I'll just take up about five minutes of your time." Nick notes how
short and wiry he is, but with a prominent, beak-like nose which gave
him a decidedly aggressive, no-nonsense look. "I...met with a certain
young lady...- who has been rather unhappy about your behaviour
recently. I contacted your father –"

"MY FATHER?!?" Nick bellows, incredulously. He then catches himself,
remembering he is in the office
Poor impulse control, thinks Hart: "Burton and I go back a ways…"

"How could you even CONSIDER contacting my father about anything to do
with ME?!" Nick felt both intimidated, infuriated and acutely
self-conscious. Hart's comment, explains why Burton had been looking
at him lately like he had landed from the moon.

"As I was saying.." continues Hart, "This lady has been considering
charges against you for stalking - at the urging of the police - but
your father and I had a long talk with her, and she will forget about
the incident, and so will our office, if you will simply agree not to
"let her see your face", or have any other further kind of contact
with her again."

Nick was infuriated, feeling also like an idiot realising that his
father had been bailing him out of a mess he barely knew himself to be in.

"I can walk down any sidewalk I like." Nick retorts angrily, as if
Hart had hit slapped him.

"Is that your final word on this, Nick? I know Burton will be
disappointed."

Nick instantly relented. It would do no good to cause further bad
feelings for his father, or worsen the situation. Hart had given him
the excuse he needed to comply, without seeming as if he were giving
in, or admitting any wrongoing.

"But I don't want my father upset! He's not been himself lately. So,
yes, I'll agree to avoid this woman's street, avoid all coffee shops
in Pittsburgh, and avoid walking past any clothing stores!"

Hart was tempted to joke about the comment regarding clothing stores,
remembering the gift of the pink top with the heart on it that Dana
had referred to, but resisted the urge. Nick was a serious young man,
in therapy, and a force to be reckoned with when angry. "Very good
then. I trust the matter's resolved...it would be a serious matter if
she were to register any further complaints." Hart stood up and
extended his hand, and Nick shook it, in as neutral a manner as
possible, trying to mask his horror at Hart's visit.

Nick slumped back into his seat as Hart walked out. He couldn't
remember the last time he had felt so humiliated -- except when he had
told Lulu he loved her and she had replied, unemotionally with "I
don't know how to respond to that".

~ ~ ~

Burton emerged from his office, and saw Hart walking out of the
Falling and Fallin foyer. He fairly ran after him.

"Say, Hart? Ah…you were in to see Nicholas?"

"Yeah. I think it'll be okay, Burton. He was pretty pissed when he
realized I`d already brought it up with you though."

"Oh!…yeah!! Burton frowned and lowered his head briefly, and then
looked up at Hart again. "He'll get over it…don't give it a second
thought. I owe you a damn, good dinner! Waddya say..ah..what are you
and Lisa – Burton remembered that Hart was now engaged – what are you
and Lisa doing this Saturday night?"

~ ~ ~

Nick decides to get quietly drunk. He pulls out an unopened bottle
of Bailey's out of his liquor cabinet, that someone had given him at
Christmas. He prefers something less sweet to drink, but right now,
the bottle of Bailey's looks like it will do the job. He takes it out
to his coffee table and sits down, ready to "see where it takes him" -
it was Trevor's favorite line, whenever he wanted to suggest a new
approach or course of action for Nick - "See where it takes you."

Three shots later, the phone rings.

"Yeah?"

"Gee, Nick – ever think of something of greeting someone with "Hello?"
asks a friendly, female voice. "It's Cindy, you know - from Barb's?"

"Oh. Hi. Cindy? How's it going?" Nick was glad to hear her voice.
He had met her at Barb's Hallowe'en party – a blonde cousin of Barb's
- at least this is what he remembers.

"Well, it could be going better actually. How are you?" she whines.

"Well, it could be going better actually" mimics Nick.

"You're not trying to make fun of me, are you, Nick?' she asks
sounding a little hurt.

"No, no! I'm just having less than a great day." Nick tries to
appease her possible hurt feelings.

"Wanna have less than a great day together?" Cindy asks rather
boldly. Nick barely knows her. The two have only met twice - once was
over the phone.

"What have you got in mind?" asked Nick, wondering if he really wants
Cindy to come over, not knowing her that well.

"Do you want to we go out for a drink – a beer maybe, and shoot the
shi-itt?" her last word sound a bit slurred.

"Have you been drinking?" asks Nick, less than his usually polite self.

"A little" replies Cindy.

"Yeah, me too" says Nick conspiratorially, smiling inwardly now. At
least they could start out on the same footing – "a little".

"There you go, making me fun of me again." But Cindy sounds more pouty
than offended. "Why don't you suggest somewhere, and I can meet ya
there?"

"You suggest something." Nick can only think of the Incline and
doesn't want to suggest the Incline.

"How `bout Rocky's?"

"Half an hour." Nick hangs up.

Cindy is waiting for Nick a good fifteen minutes after he says he will
be there. But Nick has taken a wrong turn on the way to the new club,
and wound up on one-way streets that take him through many red-lit
intersections that he would otherwise have bypassed.

He walks into the standing area of Rocky's, and Cindy recognizes him
right away and waves. She fairly swoons at the sight of him. Barb
wasn't kidding when she told Cindy, that "he can look "a lot better
than John Lennon"! She can't get over how fabulous he looks without
that horrid long hair he wore to the Halloween party. She stares
straight at his face in fascination and smiles. Nick grins at the
warm reception.

One and a half wine decanters later, it occurs to Nick that not only
does he have to drive home in his condition, but that Cindy is in no
condition to drive either. And of course, there is the matter of his
probation, if he were to be pulled over.

"Why don't we take a cab back to my place?" Nick suggests, feeling
good about the idea of more of her company. She's funny - and
available - as far as Nick is able to tell. At least for this evening
– based on something about an "ex-boyfriend" that she had shared with
him earlier.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds like a good plan. Not sure I should be driving!"
giggles Cindy.

When the driver comes in, looks around for his fares, and signals to
them questioningly, Nick nods, confirming he's spotted the right
people. He then encircles his arm around Cindy, and attempts to lead
her out slowly. Before she follows, she fusses with her purse handle
which has somehow twisted itself and will not hang properly. While
she tries to correct it, Nick glances up, just in time to see – LULU??
- walk in.

"Oh my God – there's that creep! - Again!" bemoans Dana, huddling
close to her friend, Roxanne as they enter the club together, very
expensively dressed, both sporting white patent leather purses.

"And he's staring at you!" announced Roxanne. "I'm a witness – he's
staring at you." she repeats like a large animal about to corner its prey.

"I'm not even going to look at him, Roxanne. C'mon, let's get out of
here!…"

But Roxanne has Nick fixed in her steely gaze. Nick bends over toward
Cindy and whispers "Some trouble.. let's get out of here!"

"What's going on?' asks Cindy puzzled, as she straightens up and
notices the women for the first time..

"It's nothing, if we keep on moving." Nick grips Cindy tightly and
tries to move her along, so that they can exit summarily..

"You goddam creep! How dare you keep hanging around!" hisses Roxanne
at him as he walks by with Cindy in tow.

Cindy does not understand the situation, but she knows Nick has done
nothing except be good company all evening and that they were there at
her suggestion.

"Why don't you two go burn your jealousy up down at Tito's! "Tito's"
is a lesbian pickup bar, well known for attracting yuppie women who
prefer upscale women. "I'm sure you can find what you want there!"

Nick bites his lip to resist the smile that might become his death
knell, and hugs Cindy tight to him as they keep walking."

"You hang onto that pervert, sister! We sure as hell don't want him!"
yells Roxanne caustically.

"Honestly" coos Cindy. "What a couple of hags? they were!" Nick
does not know whether to laugh or cry at the remark, having seen a
miserable version of "Lulu" along with sidekick, again. Again,
"Lulu" wanted nothing to do with him. He knew his feelings were
crazy, and driving him crazy. He realized he had better be prepared
to do some talking on Friday with a certain therapist.

"Nick – I know this great game you can play in the back seat of a cab…"

Nick crawls into the back seat and pulls her close to him and looks
out the window. Pittsburgh looks so different from a passenger's
point of view. The water looks quite pretty.

~ ~ ~

end of Part 2
 
--+--
 
Part 3

Nick has not meant for things to go this far. His intention was to try
to get to know Cindy better – and "maybe" fool around a bit, once they
got to his place. But as he helps her remove her coat, and she twists
around gently in his arms and stares into his eyes, he is already
resequencing his earlier plan. She touches one of his pretty eyelashes
with her finger, and he blinks at her reflexively, surprised. As he
considers his options, Cindy's warm hands loop alluringly around his
waist. She begins to caress his lower backside over his shirt. She
then skillfully eases his shirttails out from his pants, until she is
able to feel his hot bare skin under her fingers. She resumes gently
playing and stroking his exposed flesh. He hangs up her coat without
taking his eyes off her. Once his second arm is free, he begins to
roam both of his hands lightly down along the front of her, leaving
trails of hot shivers and shudders in his wake. She sticks her soft,
pouty tongue out at him, gazing at him expectantly. The sight of its
wetness sears him across his stomach, and tugs at his groin like a
song of dark, stirred, longing. He momentarily reflects on how much he
has been kidding himself. It is only a matter of moments before Nick
finds
himself trying to block her exit from where she is leaning with her
back against the wall.

The alcohol is dulling Nick's thought processes, which leave him
considering primarily things impacting only on the "here and now".
Four glasses of wine are smoothing the way for Cindy to relax her
inhibitions - which in turn serve to sharpen her libidinous responses.

Nick moves his face closer to her, as his hip searches out her softest
lower area out like a heat-seeking missile. When he finds it, he
angles himself toward her, easing a bumping and grinding motion into
her. The pliable, yielding "Y" part of her upper legs feels delicious
to Nick. Her expansive curvature holds a magnet-like allure for him,
as his hip contact with her excites pleasant sensations throughout his
trunk and groin. His grinding movements derail Cindy's sensibilities
as he continues to apply a most tantalizing, exquisite amount of
pressure against her: not soft; not hard. She breathes ever
more agitatedly as he continues. As does Nick.

But to Cindy, he seems much more in control of himself.

She reaches for his stiffness. But frustratingly, she finds herself
unable to grasp it. He deftly maneouvres himself out of her reach,
each time she tries.

"Oh, you're a tease..." moans Cindy. She decides to grab Nick by his
groomed, short locks, long enough to wetkiss him in his mouth, showing
him little mercy. Although his mouth is quite numbed from alcohol, her
darting playful tongue soon drives him into blindly chasing her tongue
in her own wet depths. He grips her head with his hands, so she cannot
easily escape his mouth and tongue. Her tongue retreats and then
returns to tease and enchant him again. He tries at first lazily, to
suck her enchanting, slippery tongue gently into his mouth if only for
awhile, but she moves it a bit too quickly, dodging him. He is forced
to exercise unnatural patience, until she mercifully returns to explore
his mouth again. As Cindy ventures her tongue tip close to his somewhat
parted, lips, suddenly she feels her tongue being drawn and suckled
compellingly into his hot, mouth, where she cannot easily withdraw it.
She feels his hand glide down the inner edge of her torso, trailing
along her stomach gently. He begins to orbit it tenderly around her
pulsating, but still-clothed juncture. He reaches for a warm inner
thigh and squeezes firmly, and then slowly rotates the back of his hand
gently over her pubic mound yet again, setting off a whiteout of
shivery anticipation. Cindy cannot ever remember feeling this
excited, this fast.

The back of his hand orbits around her belly-button briefly and
then resumes a padding motion down back to her pubis, and pushes gently
when he has arrived close to her love spot. "Anh!" Cindy cries out,
letting out a sharp exhalation:

He knows what he is doing, thinks Cindy. He knows exactly how to get
me going! She is beginning to feel like a melting puddle, and can
barely stand the intensity of having only his warming hand against
her. She begins to moan quietly, involuntarily, from intense desire
for him. She gropes for any part of him he appears to be offering
her, sucking
amorously on his neck muscles, and nibbling along his jawline, working
her way up and on to his chin.

Powerful, strange and familiar of longing begin to well up in Nick, but
he lets them effortllessly flow through him. Espying various soft
places on Cindy's upper and lower torso, he bends down to softly devour
them with his lips, one at a time. He feels happy at how responsive
her skin seems to his touch. He plants yet another attentive kiss
offcenter of her belly button, and is pleasantly surprised when he
feels her warm hand slink itself into the front of his pants, from
the side. He then feels it grope down and lift his boxers pant leg
slightly, slither up his bare thigh, and finding his rigidity, wrap
itself around his very stiff penis. She elevates it, and then draws
it down gently, intentionally tapping his scrotum back and forth a
little with her little finger, as she does this. It leaves him with
the sensation that he is melting like hot lava, and hardening into
rock at the same time.

Cindy finally begins to pump his firm, alive "barrel" up and down ever
so slightly at first, tightening gently, and then clasping him more
firmly, as he relaxes to her touch. Finally, she is squeezing him
quite hard. But Nick appears not to notice, attempting to make her
squeeze harder, by clutching his hands onto hers and squeezing tightly.

Aa Cindy looks around the room for the first time. She wantonly wants
to feel Nick's full weight on her, crushing her. Nick is losing
control of himself and is trapping her buttocks in his hand, pulling
her toward him even as she is pumping him. He tries to grind his hip
into her, but cannot regain his teasing rhythm, lost in his own need
for her touch. She reaches round and smacks one of Nick's buttocks
playfully to get his attention. It only serves to excite him more:
his response is to grind into her more forcefully.

"Nick!" she whispers loudly.

He is brought to his senses by her voice. "Is everything okay?" he
asks weakly.

"Let's go lie down. I want you on me." she says, breathing heavily,
and staring at him with burning eyes.

Nick cannot really feel his legs, but he follows her and somehow makes
his way over to couch, almost falling on her. She has enough presence
of mind to unzip and help him off with his both his outer pants and his
boxers. She gasps at the sight of his nakedness.

"What?" asks Nick skeptically, slightly confused by six ounces of
alcohol that haven't yet cleared his system.

"You look so good…" says Cindy, appreciatively.

Nicks grins self-consciously, thinking she has it backwards – he
considers himself a half-naked dodo bird, who hasn't had the presence
of mind to remove her clothes – until now.

"Okay, off with them!" Nick slurs slightly. He reaches down and pulls
her skirt and panties off, marvelling at her ample, curvacious legs.
He falls to his knees, and looks her over. It is her pubic hair that
fascinates him the most: it is soft and tidy-looking, lighter on the
outer edges, and seems to cling to her center protectively, framing
her inner part more darkly, like a secret being kept from him.

He wants to probe the secret. Cindy realizes what he is about to do,
and she covers herself. Nick wishes to see more, maybe even taste her.
He tries gently to move her hand away, leaning his face in more closely.

Cindy face clouds. "I…just lay on me, Nick. Please..."

Nick sees she is not enjoying his interest and is mildly disappointed,
but he stands up finally, firmly, and lowers himself slowly on top of
her, relishing her warmth. He fondles her hair. She nibbles on his
earlobe, and suckles it gently. She continues to deep-kiss him,
renewing the aching in his groin With her hands, she restirs him
quickly into a place of wanting and pleasant prickles.
Although she begins to caress his penis again, he removes her hand from
it. He then pulls himself up a bit, and gently nudges her legs apart
with his fingers, and notices how this causes an occasional powerful
tremor in her. Realising he is having this effect on her, he feels
somewhat in awe - even though he is used having women's fingernails
rake his skin, from time to time.

For the first time that evening, Cindy feels panicky. She wants Nick
to enter her so badly, she can barely control herself, waiting for him
to do so.

He begins to probe her for her entry point. Although he has no
difficulty finding her center, the seconds used to locate her sweet
wetness are the longest seconds Cindy can ever remember. He pushes the
head of his bullion into her, and the moment he has penetrated, Nick
feels two hands grasp his buttocks tightly. They uncompromisingly pull
him fully into her, from behind. Before he can say "oh..", Nick has
sunk very deeply into her. She squeezes him affectionately with her
vaginal muscles, signalling her approval, and smiles at him. As he
pulls back to thrust, to his complete surprise, she tries and
successfully pushes him out completely. She pulls her pelvis away from
him, expelling him with her inner muscles at the same time. She also
presses her hands firmly against his chest. Before he can stop her
enforced exit to ask her what the problem is, Cindy twists down and
reaches under him with her arm, for his scrotum, and takes and
caresses his testicles lightly, running her finger gently along the
underside of it gently. She commences rolling them evenly and
measuredly in her hand. The sensations she generates in him, cause
Nick to forget to just plain breathe. He begins to relax and enjoy
her light play. She plays with him a while longer, and then tenderly
pulls him back into her. She slides herself herself along his
stiffness, and embraces him. He loses all feelings of reservation
this time. He has come to right place at the right time. He meets
the deep warmth of her and leaves his needs behind: his loneliness,
his longing, his anguish. He belongs where he is, and she is most
definitely his – for now.

He begins to move himself inward and outward, gently and very slowly.
There are no rushing reasons, nothing to pursue, as he basks in the
beauty of the sensations they share. Cindy feels a contentedness about
the goodness that she feels in her, and about their entire strange,
evening together. Everything about Nick seems good. Their situation
seems so very – so ridiculously right.

It's not supposed to be this easy, reasons Cindy – she knows she hasn't
known Nick long. But everything about Nick seems easy - except his
intense physical teasing!

They continue to move contentedly, harmoniously this way for some time.
But eventually, feeling more disinhibited than usual, as Nick's
thrusting takes on a more urgent quality, Cindy's pangs of desire begin
to sharpen suddenly and she has an overwhelming urge to cry out. She
ponders how long it will be before Nick weakens and succumbs to the
inevitable. Her ex-boyfriend would have spent himself about twenty
minutes ago – that - with all the practice they'd had. Cindy had
somehow for awhile, gotten used to his brushfire rhythms, although they
had never really been that satisfying.

She looks up and sees Nick looking passively back at her. Perhaps that
passivity is an illusion thinks Cindy. His eyes looked glazed.
Perhaps there is fire somewhere behind those ocean-coloured eyes.

The alcohol-glow in Nick's eyes are like smouldering coals. It is
sometime before Cindy notices that the flicker of new flames has
developed behind them...

"OH-H!!" thunders Nick, maintaining his rhythmic thrusting.

Cindy is momentarily caught off guard by the gutteral intensity and
volume of the sound Nick has made. She watches him intently, as he
continues to rock her.

A-A-W-H-H! roars Nick again, even more intensely, more loudly this
time. Again, preserving his steady movements.

Cindy realizes he has not spent any of himself, in spite of the
loudness of his utterance. To her surprise his protracted, rhythmic
thrusting continues as before - not speeding or slowing in the
slightest - although Cindy feels yet more excited, as well.

A-W-N-N-N! Nick punctuates the air loudly with a piercing cry. He
stops to catch his breath briefly. After a few moments, he resumes his
steady movements again.

Gradually, they thrust rhythmically together, prolonging his maddening
even pace, breathing more heavily, more passionately...

Minutes later, Cindy feels overtaken by a sharp spasm of her own and
screeches sharply: "A-H-N-N-G!". But she too, is not yet that close
to climaxing.

Nick is thrusting too expertly to precipitate it.

AH!-OW-H! AH! A-H-O-W-W-H-H!! exclaims Nick. He's coming! thinks
Cindy. But although Nick looks very drawn and tense and is breathing
raggedly, he simply protracts his steady thrusting. He angles himself
more wildly from time to time. He also slows, from time to time,
heightening the close-to-excruciating tension for both of them.

Next time, he will come, speculates Cindy, feeling confident that Nick
cannot hold out much longer. Not that she is in a hurry to have him
come - but it concerns her that she is unfamiliar with his limits – or
even her own for that matter. She is surprised with how powerfully her
desire for him has been, and yet she has been able to resist climaxing
this long.

Even while she considers these things about them, her breathing is
accelerating even further, to an almost a feverish pitch. Her hunger
for him is becoming more unbearable.

Then, like a freight train barrelling down toward a nearby station --
she can feel the certainty of it's imminence…

So can Nick. He twists his head from side to side like a drowning
swimmer, desperately trying to shun his own intensity and need. He
finally curls inward, embracing Cindy tightly, bracing for the
mighty onrush. Time finally stands still.

"G-G-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-H-W-H-H!!!!!! "

The train slows The cars bump against each other. The brakes squeal.
The chugging ceases.

The freight cargo arrives.

"Oh God...!"

No one knows who has uttered this last invective. No one cares.


~ fin ~

End of Part 3
 
 
--+--
 
Part 4

"So, did you get want you wanted?" smirked Roxanne. It was early
morning. She was sitting in the driver's seat of her Chevy Malibu
across from Nick's house, watching Cindy and Nick closely as they
emerged onto the sidewalk to enter an awaiting cab. Nick and Cindy
were heading back to Rocky's to pick up the cars from the parking lot.

"Matter of fact I did!" smiled Cindy a little wickedly, not at all
afraid of Roxanne, but wondering what the woman's relationship to Nick
was. But Nick went pale, realizing who it was. Cindy looked at Nick,
and saw his blanched appearance.

"Is she an old girlfriend, Nick?"

"No." Nick wisecracked,"she's a "wannabe"!" He said this with a smug
tone, to mask his unease.

"I heard that!" shot back Roxanne with condemnation in her voice.

Nick was surprised she had, and unhappy about it. He asked her
accusingly, "So what are you doing here? How did you know I was
here?" Nick hoped there was still an opportunity to placate her. He
sensed danger.

"We followed your cab last night – just to make sure you weren't
following us."

"Now you know" replied Nick, determined to keep his cool. "It was
just co-incidence that you two showed up. If I'd known you were
coming, I would have been gone before you got there. – Believe me!"
His last comment contained a hint of the desperation he felt.

"Helluva a coincidence!" answered Roxanne skeptically. She did not
know if Nick was being sincere, but found the presence of the doting
woman difficult to ignore. Maybe you just arranged things to make it
look coincidental.

Nick knew what she meant. Even he had to admit it was a "helluva
coincidence."

"Yeah" Nick concurs. "It was a helluva coincidence! So, you can go now."

"Maybe I don't want to." answers Roxanne. "Maybe you're just too
BEAUOO-TIFUL!!" she answers sarcastically."

Nick feels like a butterfly pinned to an entomologist's board,
flapping his wings desperately to escape.

"Look! I made a mistake, okay? Will you just leave me alone now?"

"We'll see…" replied Roxanne. She starts her engine and drove away.

"Hey buddy, are we going somewhere, or?.."

"Er..right."

Nick gets in and remains silent for the rest of the ride. Cindy
burrows herself into his arm, sensing he does not want to talk, and
says nothing.

~ ~ ~


"So, Nick. How are things this week?' asks Meade, noting Nick's
somewhat dishevelled appearance.

"Different."

"Different how?" [Well, at least he showed up this week.]

"Well, my father's not looking so well. I think he's still upset
about losing his foster daughter." says Nick, not quite ready to bare
himself under Trevor's intense gaze.

[H-m-m. He doesn't sound ready to talk about himself much] "He's sad
at losing her?"

"Yeah, I think he is. His get up and go hasn't got as much gusto."
Nick manages a weak smile.

"And how does affect you?" [Nice try, Nick, but you don't get off
that easy. It's not your father in therapy, here, much as I think
that would be a good idea.]

"Well, I've been thinking more about…the future.." [Well, at least
he's not asking me about Lulu] Nick feels somewhat relieved.

"What about the future in particular?" [Come on, come on. Let's get
something happening, here.]

"Who I'm going to be with. What I'm going to be doing." Nick wipes
his upper mouth absently.

"Are there some concerns?" [C'mon Nick, let's not have this session
be a big writeoff…]

"Nothing in particular. My health, I guess."

[Shit! Mr. Man-of-few-words is on a privacy roll today] "Physical?
Emotional?" Trevor probes patiently, but Nick taxes his patience,
leaving Trevor feeling impatient - it's like trying to draw blood out
of a stone, sometimes…

`Ah..physical…emotional..yeah. Both I guess." [What's the big deal?
The future hasn't happened yet!]

"Tell me about the emotional part, Nick." [Still a chance here…]

"Well, I see my dad – I think he's pretty lonely, really. He's
probably better – I know he's better with people than I am -- and so
where's that going to leave me, when I get older?" [I wonder how old
Trevor is…]

[I'm glad you asked where that might leave you, I'm really glad you
asked…] "What do you think may be the biggest barriers?" Trevor is
about to land his "fish" today, with a bit of luck.

"For my dad?' asks Nick innocently, deftly and instinctively
sidestepping his own emotional landmines.

Trevor sees his quick dodge. [Damn!] "Okay, let's start with your
dad…" [ Sit back, Trevor. This is going to be a slow ride today.
Fallin has fallen back to "clamville"].

"For him, I think it's mostly his age. It's harder for him to find a
wife, someone who understands his business; people who see past his
wrinkles; people who see him as someone other than a lawyer. People
come to him for advice, but a lot of the time – they're just using him."

"And you?" [Maybe I can slip this one in before you notice we're
getting personal!].

Trevor is used to having his patients reveal things about themselves
that he already knows full well, while they try and conceal their
fears and their fears and their fears. He is used to having them
discover after six months of therapy, what he knows about their past,
their lives and their circumstances on the first interview.. Like a
radiologist poring over X-rays, the case files and the first visit
usually gives him enough information to write a book regarding their
unique "mindprints". He knows who's abused, who's used, who's
floundering in self-pity, who needs a good kick in the ass, and who
needs tons of tons of love and approval to make it past their next
suicidal impulse. His patient's mindprints float about them like
odorous perfume. The trick as Trevor sees it, is to get them to see
and change what needs to be seen and changed. It is often simply a
waiting game – waiting for the moment when the patient wants to heal
so badly, that they take the leap.

"Me? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll be the same way."

[Better. Getting closer]."You think your barriers will be the same,
that you will be lonely, and used." Trevor throws it out to keep Nick
rolling the ball.

"I don't know of a way around it."

[Recognise you need help, dummy.] "Sounds pretty bleak." [ C'mon
recognise it.]

"Yeah."

[Are we ready?] "Well, Nick, I don't know if those things are
inevitable at all. I have clients and friends who have law practices,
and they don't have the problems you've described, or if they have,
they have found ways around them."

"Yeah, how?"

[Yes-s-s-s!!! I'm really glad you asked, Nick] Trevor would have
shouted enthusiastically, if he could have seen a way to advance the
therapy with it. But Nick is not ready for this. He is like the shy
squirrel in the park – too much movement and it runs.

"Would it be fair to say that your father has a hard time trusting
people?" Trevor moves in for the kill.

"Yeah, I guess so." Nick does not like talking about family members,
but it doesn't sound like he's indicting his father. The information
is privileged.

[Keep it up, kid] "Would it be fair to say that you do, too?"

"Yeah, I guess so – sometimes" [Geez, what is this guy on about? I'm
not weird.]

"How about not just sometimes?" [Take the leap.]

"You can't go around trusting people all the time. They'll eat you
for breakfast. Lawyering is a very competitive thing."

[Very clever rationalization – because it has enough truth in it to
pass for court evidence! – shit!] "And from what you tell me, Nick,
your boarding school experiences trained you well for competition!" [
Let's just back off now.]

"Yeah." [See, I told you I was normal.]

[Let's try this:] "Tell me about a trust issue that came up this week
for you."

"Uh, I didn't have any" [I am NOT going to discuss the circumstances
around Hart's visit.- Till hell freezes over!].

[Liar, liar, pants on fire!] Trevor is getting frustrated.. "I'm sure
there must have been SOMETHING?"

"Um.." [He's like a dog with his teeth in my leg.]

"Take your time…" [You're going to anyway.]

[Let's see. What can I dig up on short notice? Trust?] "Well, there
was something – I went out and had some beers with this woman, and I
didn't tell her why some women in a bar got riled with me." [This is
so scary.]

[He's nibbling, but far from hooked.] "Hm. Is there more?"

"Not really." Nick stares at Trevor's abstract on the wall. It is
made up of strangely coloured shapes, but they are juxtaposed in a
not-unpleasant manner. Right now, they are Nick's tranquilizer.
Trevor does not have him on any medications.

"Will you be telling her in the future?" [Let's look at this at little
more.]

"Probably not." [And I knew this how? "Duh…"]

"Was it something you would have liked to have been able to discuss
with her?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know her very well."

[It's not her~ - it's something bigger! Who's the real trust issue?]
Trevor is sure Nick has tried to throw him off the scent. "What about
your father?' Trevor sees Nick's facial expression turn to one of
alarm. [-- BINGO! He can't tell his father about…]

"What about him?"

[Nice try, Nick. I gotcha!] "Is it something you could discuss with
your father?"

"No."

[Right.] "Why not?"

"He wouldn't…I don't want to upset him." [ Damn, how do I talk about
this without telling him what happened?]

Trevor sees his panick to conceal, as his pupils narrow.
"Excuse me, Nick." Trevor waited until Nick was looking directly at him.

"I want to hear the full reason you wouldn't want to upset him with it."

"I don't want to disappoint him." says Nick.

[We know that much already.] "I appreciate you might not want to
disappoint him, but why would that stop you?' asked Trevor.

"Because sons shouldn't disappoint their fathers." [Isn't it obvious?]

"Says who?" challenged Trevor.

Nick was at a loss for words. He groped for an answer. His mind went
blank. Finally he answers:

"My mother."

[Good stuff!] Trevor leans forward and looks closely at Nick.

"What did you mother say, Nick?"

Nick thinks back to her familiar words: "She used to say, "don't do
that…your father will be so disappointed." [Yeah. She used to say
that a lot.]

"And was she usually right?' [Let's get it right, here.]

"Ah, actually, no. [Jeez, you picked up on that pretty quick. How'd
you do that, exactly?] Dad was pretty good at handling most of my
booboos. it was mum that couldn't handle it. It would make her sicker."

"Disappointing people means making them sicker." [He is getting
easier to roll]

"Yeah." Nick starts to feel like he is being choked.

Trevor sees the pain. "Disappointing people too much means you will
be abandoned."

Nicks choking turns to painful tears. [Why is this ugly fact so damn
true?].

"Yeah." he utters softly, feeling hopeless.

"If you're perfect, you won't be abandoned." Trevor sinks the hook in
neatly.

In spite of feeling overwhelmed emotionally, Nick realizes the
ridiculousness of this remark. "I'm not trying to be perfect." [I want
off of this fucking hook!]

"Aren't you?' asks Trevor, subtly throwing him the life preserver out
of his own painful tears of fear and pain.

"Maybe." Nick can breathe again. His tears stop.

It is Trevor who sees Nick emerge from the pool with his "maybe". And
thinks "maybe" some real progress today.

All Nick knows is that he can breathe again.

Nicks walks out of the session feeling ten pounds lighter than when
he went in. There is a spring in his step.

~ ~ ~

Nick picks up his office extension.

"Is this Nick Fallin?"

"This is he." Nick answers guardedly. He does not recognize voice of
the female caller.

"This is Dana." she says somewhat miserably, sounding vulnerable.

"I'm trying to avoid you guys! Why don't you leave me alone? asks
Nick, very unhappy at hearing from her, feeling very vulnerable. "How
did you get this number?"

"I know your name, remember? Fallin & Fallin is in the phone book.
Look, I'm sorry -- when I saw you at Rocky's I freaked. I didn't
think until after that maybe it was coincidence, until Roxanne told me
she saw this other woman leaving with you the next morning. She was
so mad about you being at the bar, she was going to stalk you, just to
give you a taste of your own medicine."

"Yeah, she made it clear how she felt." Nick is somewhat relieved
that Dana is not "freaking out", but he is not the least bit
comfortable speaking with her since the visit from Hart Langley.

"Well, anyway, I'm just calling to say I'm sorry about the
misunderstanding. I'm sorry you lost your girlfriend – your Dad told
me about it – I guess anyone can get to feeling lonely, but you scared
me, and I didn't know what was going on."

"It's okay. I won't be bothering you again. I'm sorry. If I happen
to see you anyplace in public, I will just walk away - I promise."

"Well, you don't have to do that. Just don't come close."

"Okay."

"-- You ARE pretty cute, you know. I don't know why this other woman
would have left you."

"Maybe we should end this conversation."

"Okay. I was just trying to let you know, I'm not a witch."

"I don't think of you as a witch. I made a mistake."

"Okay. No hard feelings?"

Nick was finding this communication difficult.

"Can I just hang up now?"

"So you do have hard feelings!"

"What do you want from me? I'm sorry I bothered you and I won't do it
again."

"But you're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Well, you wouldn't say "no hard feelings". What do you call that?

"I call it…stage fright."

"Stage fright?"

"Yeah. Is that so bad?"

"How hard can it be to say "no hard feelings".

"Okay, "no hard feelings."

"There you go. Wasn't so hard was it? That's all I wanted. "Bye."

Nick was wondering if he was going crazy. It seemed to him to be the
craziest conversation he could remember having. He couldn't even
fathom why he told he had had stage fright. He never said things like
that to anyone.

Until today.

~ ~ ~
 
End of Part 4
 
 
--+--
 
Part 5



"Still dating?" asks Trevor.

"Been busy with work…" mumbles Nick, looking devoid of though and feeling.

<Another one of those "clam" sessions of his today! sighs Trevor>

"Last week you were discussing some of your frustration with a
colleague of yours. Jake, I believe his name is?" asks Trevor,
changing the subject, trying another tack.

Ignoring Trevor's new question, Nick muses over a possibility only
just now considered: "I suppose I could give Cindy a call…"

"Cindy – someone you have dated before?" Trevor follows his train of
attention.

"Yeah, she's… - we spent a pretty good evening together..but I got
busy and never returned her call."

"It's always better to return calls, isn't it, Nick? Were you feeling
ambivalent about her for some reason?" prompts Trevor before Nick
fades again on him.

<Damn! He's just too observant! thinks Nick. I guess that's what I'm
paying the big bucks for!> Nick finds himself at a loss for words for
a few moments.

"Take your time."

"She's…nice…I guess I just don't know her too…" Nick's brow furrows.

"- Anything else?" Trevor is skeptical about the hearing his primary
reservation on the first stab.

"I don't know what my father would think of her." Nick is finally
able to get this out, and surprises himself with his answer to
Trevor's question..

"What do you suppose he would think or say?" asks Trevor, scowling a
little owlishly..

"She…she's more working class…I think he wants to see me with someone
more…"

"Didn't you mention your father is from a working class background?"

Nick responds quickly to this.

"Yes - and he's done everything in his power to obliterate it!"

"You feel that pressure to do likewise?"

"I think between boarding and law school, I was given that message,
yes - definitely."

"What do you think would happen if you introduced him to Cindy,
assuming you started seeing her again, and the situation seemed right
for you." asks Trevor cautiously, not wanting to spook Nick early in
the session.

<Grab the girl. She sounds like good news.>

"I…well, he might be his normal, polite self, but she'd feel the "cold
shoulder". It wouldn't take him long. He would change the subject a
lot if we were talking, maybe try and get me to talk about a case.
She wouldn't even feel the rug being pulled out - at first."

"Are there things you are able to – might say or do, to make the
situation move along a little bit better?" Trevor wants him to take a
more aggressive approach to Burton's conflicting agenda in matters of
intimacy.

"Yeah." Nick answers him again, unhesitatingly. "Sorry, Dad! Cindy
and I have something planned. We've gotta go now…" He imitates his
usual exit strategy with surprising realism. Then realizing the black
humor in this, grins sheepishly at Trevor.

Trevor smiles at him conspiratorially, amused. "Good way to avoid the
gauntlet, Nick. For awhile, at any rate."

Nick returns the smile, sheepishness gone, realising Trevor isn't
really judging him. But the smile quickly fades again.

"Yes. Only for awhile." Nick concurs.

"What about something that involves sticking around? Saying
something, or?

Nick has never considered himself having any power to challenge his
father's demeanor in this area. Trevor knows this, and waits
patiently, expecting Nick to at least try to answer this.

"Let's try this" says Trevor. "I'm your father – what is something
your father would say, typically…?"

"So, Cindy - Nick tells me you're a dishwasher – I bet you meet a lot
of interesting people… But he would say it with half a grimace,
hunched over, and glance off to the left while she was talking…" Nick
volunteers.

"Cindy! Nick tells me you're a dishwasher – I bet you meet a lot of
interesting people.." Trevor glances off to the left, avoiding Nick's
gaze. Nick is shocked at how much the re-creation of the situation
upsets him, despite the fact that it is Trevor doing a poor imitation
of his father.

"Do you always have to cut someone off at the KNEES in the first five
sentences!!!" spits Nick furiously.

"What do you mean, son?' returns Trevor, in a tone of evasive innocence.

"You, you…!!!" Nick is spluttering and shouting, as fury wells up in
him – so much so that his communication has become incoherent. Then
he catches himself, realising how much suppressed rage he has exposed
within himself in front of Trevor. He fights to stop himself. He is
deeply upset that Trevor has viewed the some of the depths of his
inner turmoil. Trevor continue to watch him calmly, exacerbating
Nick's self-consciousness.

"I'm sorry…" Nick cools himself as if he has been dropped into a tub
of ice water, but is still not quite able to summon the cucumber he
would prefer to be.

"Don't be sorry! It's what we're here for." says Trevor with conviction.

"Yeah." says Nick, not really understanding. He is secretly glad the
cat is out of the bag, where his anger toward Burton is concerned.
But is it really constructive? Perhaps he will find it harder next
time to rein his anger in. His attempt at masking his fears, fails
miserably.

Trevor pats his knee encouragingly, calming Nick briefly. But then he
flushes again with agitation, thinking again, about how upset those
few mimicking words of Trevor's had made him.

"See why I'm better off cutting out in those situations?" asks Nick,
sinking into a feeling of hopeless.

"No." replies Trevor emphatically. "You just did very well."

<Is he kidding? I was ready to punch his lights out!>

"Before you return, I want you to take some time and think of two or
three different responses you could apply to that situation. They
could be angry or they could be less angry, but I want you to work on
this! Okay, Nick?"

Nick nods, unsure if he will be able, but receptive to thinking about
it for awhile. At the moment, knocking Burton's block off is looking
like the only other viable solution.


~ ~ ~

"Hey, Barb, Nick here."

"Well hello, STRANGER!" answered Barb warmly.

"How's it going?" asks Nick.

"What's up?" giggles Barb, knowing that Nick is not calling for casual
reasons – Nick is not a "call-to-chat" type of person.

"I..ah…lost Cindy's number, and wiped it off the machine by accident."

"Sure – I got it right here…"

"By the way, Barb – I never asked Cindy what her situation is – is she
going with someone, or?

"She AVAILABLE, Nick. She finally ditched this bum boyfriend she was
going with for awhile. But you better hurry, I think someone from
work asked her out last weekend."

"From LSP?" Nick asked trying to conceal his upset on hearing this.

"No, at her own workplace."

"Where's that?"

"I don't know where it is exactly, because they just moved offices -
but she works for that Process Serving outfit - you know the one".
She cannot remember the name, but adds: "She's learning to do it
herself, too!"

"Hm" replies Nick, surprised and intrigued. "Somehow, I had her
pictured in something further away from the legal profession."

"She's done a lot of different stuff, Nick. She's a bit of a job
hopper really. She did a lot industrial stuff a long time ago – she's
strong."

"Yeah" replied Nick. "I did notice she was pretty athletic."

"Could be good for process serving, too." Barb laughed, knowing how
Nick would have had a first hand purview of her athleticism. "And
tough enough to handle you" teased Barb.

"I wouldn't go that far…" replied Nick.

"Here's the number…I already hear your peacock feathers ruffling!"
giggles Barb.


~ ~ ~

"…just got your number from Barb – I'm sorry I'd erased your number by
accident" Nick felt he was being the lamest of liars, but hoped Cindy
would buy his apology anyway. "I was wondering if you wanted to get
together Saturday night and do something."

Nick felt intensely curious about whether she would decline or not.

"You inviting me over?" asked Cindy.

"Sure." Nick liked the idea. The idea of another bar night somehow
did not appeal to him, and he had not given other activities much
thought. He realized he didn't know Cindy well enough to make a good
suggestion for a public event. "Oh, wait a minute, maybe not – I just
remembered I promised the place to a houseguest that night." Nick
thought of Jake's desperate plea to have a place to take his new "hot"
date, since his place was smelled of new paint. "Is your place, okay?"

"Yeah, sure! 'Cause I'm in not in the mood to go paint the town.
It's been really busy around the office this week." Cindy lied. She
had been reliving their evening of fascinated chatter and sexual
intensity, wondering why he hadn't called. She remembered his long
eyelashes, his tenderness and his passion. He had seemed so into the
moment in there time together. If it were possible, she wants to
recreate some semblance of it.

"Anytime, really" she replies warmly.

~ ~ ~
 
End of Part 5
 
--+--
 
Part 6

Although he had been known to play a mean poker player from earlier
times – a habit Nick picked up in his second year at law school
– he
admits to himself, that tonight that he isn't doing a very good
job -
at all. Not only has he lost this last round, but he has lost almost
every other round of the strip poker game Cindy has persuaded him to
participate in with her - having suggested it as a more interesting
alternative to "watching the Saturday night boob tube
lineup".

At this point, he has little left with which to keep his skin warm: a
scarf and a pair of socks. He and Cindy have been flipping cards like
a couple of casino sharks for almost an hour. And losing to Cindy
seems doubly humiliating - a female is clobbering him at one of his
best games! Thank goodness it is only the two of them in the room, he
thinks. She probably even figures I rigged it. Serves me right for
letting her talk me into downing those last two chasers with her. So
now what?

"Want to up the stakes, Zeus?" she challenges, flipping her
dark blond
hair back across her shoulder, glancing at his slight alcohol flush
–
or is it a full-fledged blush – she's not sure. She gives
him the
"onceover", admiring his nakedness more than once - much to
Nick's
largely concealed, but genuine chagrine.

"What do you mean?" he asks huskily, at the same time
laughing nervously.

"Well, we could play another round for "blindfold-on-you"
versus…hm-m
… - spanking me?"

"For how long?' asks Nick salaciously, even though he is
seriously
considering calling it quits.

"We'll see.." she smirks.

Seeing Cindy's teasing, happy smile, he begins to reconsider -
what
the heck - there's none of my dignity left to salvage tonight
anymore,
anyway - giving her a few smart smacks might be fun – if I can
win.
Crossing one leg akimbo the other, and grasping his ankle, he lifts
his playing hand in a gesture implying "Deal!"

She deals the cards so quickly they whizz through the air in a
circular motion, landing neatly in the crease of his awaiting hand.
He briefly wonders if she's ever been a croupier in a former
life. He
remembers Barb's description "job hopper". He picks up
his new round
of cards, sizes them up quickly, and folds them back down
frustratedly. Sure enough - there goes the rest of my dignity! thinks
Nick. Tired of trying to outbluff her since they started, and simply
not succeeding, he decides to concede to her finally, pushing his
cards toward the center of the table in disgust.

"You win. I think it must have been a rigged deck!" he
protests
petulantly.

With glee, Cindy scoops up the cards and reassembles the deck. While
she does so, she grins at Nick-the-vanquished, relishing her victory!
Standing and pushing her chair back to leave the table, the side of
her sweater suddenly catches on furniture nail, that has worked its
way loose. It effectively prevents her from walking away. As she
tugs at it reflexively, Nick reaches forward and releases the caught
stitches from it. His reaching has inadvertently brought him close to
her bare midriff where he becames aware of her body heat, Glancing
down, he notices the baby fat texture of her skin and feels his cheeks
warm. As she draws away, smiling at him appreciatively, it leaves
Nick wondering what mischief she might have in store for him..

She hastily goes to retrieve some material to blindfold Nick with,
soon emerging from her bedroom with a black silk tie she has kept in
an old shoebox of odds and ends. She spins him around in his chair.
With his back facing her, she gently applies the strong silk material
across the bridge of his nose, lifting gently, and tying it high and
snugly. She does not want it to come undone, even with tugging. She
has a lot of activity planned for them, having given the possible
scenario some forethought before his arrival that evening - just in
case she talked him into playing, and just in case she got lucky and
won.

Nick sees absolutely nothing, once she has secured the tie on him.
Aware of this, his breathing involuntarily quickens. He calms himself
as best he is able. As she leads him away from his chair by the hand,
he hesitates, beginning to feel even more vulnerable. He has no idea
what will follow next.

"Time's up." says Nick, to inject some humor and qualm
his nervousness
over the silence between them.

"Oh, you think so, do you? responds Cindy, in a high, playful
voice.
"Let me tell you what I think, Mr. Fallin: I think it took me
over
half an hour to whup your butt at poker! - and I'm going to take
at
least that long to have my way with you now. That's what I
think!"

Nick's uneasiness diminishes a little. Anyone can survive half an
hour of whatever, right?

"Sit down." commands Cindy.

Nick obeys. As he sits, he feels as if he is falling on some soften
sort of linen sheet into a yielding type of cushioned chair. He then
he feels folds of very smooth cloth fall gently across his neck,
shoulders and arms. He shivers, but not from the cold. She adjusts
the material on him so that most of his upper body is now covered with
some short of sheetlike material. The feel of it is pleasant.

"Don't want our "bare-bottom baby" getting cold now,
do we?" she asks
in a sultry voice.

Having started to feel cool to the point of discomfort, he appreciates
the gesture in spite of her "baby talk", and nods. A moment
later he
feels soft movements in the top part of his hair. Again, more
pleasant sensations. Very light movements begin to dance across his
scalp, reminding him almost of water lightly spraying. This is
followed by subtle trickling feeling through his hair, as fingers
alight very gently across them. Reflexively, he lifts his head and
bumps his nose lightly into one of her fingertips. She withdraws them
quickly.

"Na, ah! - You just relax and sit still." she admonishes in a
friendly, but firm way.

He rubs his nose uneasily and settles in quietly, trying to cooperate.
She continues to beguile his senses, moving downward by small
degrees. She trails his ultra-smooth skin lightly with her
fingertips, breathing warmly on him, until she reaches about the level
of his ears where she stops. Then she traces the outline of his inner
ear folds with the tip of her tongue, setting off a shower of tingles
and white heat which travel straight to his neck and throat. And
further. Caressing his chin charmingly, she continues to tongue his
neck hotly with the lightest of contact - not quite tickling moving
along the edges of his muscles. He feels acutely self-conscious,
until she her licking and lashing progresses to heavy, wet sucking.
Under his ears, then just under his jawline, sliding up and down his
neck muscles, she pauses only briefly as her wetness alights on him,
again and again.. She sucks his throat from bottom to top, pushing
her tongue gently but probingly into the glandular part of his neck.

Nick tries to remain calm, but finds it difficult. Cindy seems to
waken his sexual hunger in ways which make him want to slam himself
against her.

His neck and chest become so fully inflamed, he has to draw his chin
in to protect himself, barely able to cope with the intensity. As she
continues her downward descent, he fumbles and gropes to restrain her
somehow. He fights to catch his breath - finally managing to find and
grip her wrists tightly. Undeterred by this, Cindy seeks out his
cheeks and resumes probing his facial sensitivities with her lips and
tongue anyway, all the while pulling her hands downward to stroke the
upper edges of his firm buttocks. He tries - unsuccessfuly - to
prevent her from doing this.

He then feels his own wrists being lifted and moved behind him. He
stops breathing, as he feels something like a rope being draped over
his wrist.

"You're tying me??" he feels compelled to ask, trying to
suppress his
nervousness. He feels he can almost trust her – but
"almost" is a
long way from feeling comfortable about it.

"Scared?" she asks, like a nurse asking him calmly if he
wants another
pillow.

Nick says nothing. Although he cannot see, he offers his other wrist
up to her rather reluctantly. He is not used to surrending this much
control to anyone. As she secures them, giving the thick silk cord a
few windarounds unlikely to come apart, she begins to hum quietly.

He tugs at the cords. Discovering how unyielding they are, he tenses
so much, he finds it difficult to breathe for a few moments.
It's not
too late to stop this, he thinks. Or is it?

"You seem to be enjoying yourself" comments Nick quite
breathlessly,
still trying to conceal his qualms.

"I am, I am." replies Cindy playfully. "After all,
it's not everyday,
I get to tie up a good-looking lawyer and have him beg for
mercy!" she
says in a even tone. He wonders uneasily how far Cindy might try to
take things.

"SAY WHAT?" Nick protests loudly. How much is she joking?
Does she
have much more sacrifice of his dignity, than he has in mind!? He
fairly gulps.

She responds to his indignation and mild alarm by bringing her face
close where he can feel her heat. With her lips, she gently nips his
eyebrow. She starts to kiss him very gently on his face. She begins
at his upper forehead, alighting next on the outermost part of his
cheekbone, at the edge of his blindfold. As she continues to shower
his face with tiny, light kisses, his fears begins to melt away. His
breathing temporarily quiets as he begins to relax.

Despite seeing that he is unwinding however, Cindy notes tiny beads of
perspiration which have formed on his forehead, along with his very
dampened, sunstreaked short locks. Making her way down his cheeks,
Nick unconsciously parts his lips. He salivates intensely in
anticipation of a wet kiss from her. As she hovers closely to them,
she pauses a moment to catch her own breath. Patiently and carefully,
she applies the tiniest amount of moisture to her lower lip. She then
moves in to graze a spot on his succulent lower lip - with pinpoint,
sensitivity.

Instantly, sweet fire gripples throughout Nick's entire face,
neck and
skull, arresting his breath. Slowly, he begins to recover. She
reaches down for an even more sensitive part, gently rolling and
squeezing his testicles. She drags her fingers along the inside of
his thigh and repeats the moisture process to his other lip. He moans
sharply. She waits a moment for him to recover. She brushes her
fingers up and down his chest and stomach admiringly, and replays
stroking his thighs. She injects her entire small tongue into his
mouth, this time choosing to flick it around teasingly. It makes him
feels dizzy. He sucks in a couple of large gulps of air, allowing
himself to fall backwards. The cushiony back of the chair breaks his
fall. She pauses again, allowing him to catch his breath. She
surveys her handiwork:

His face and neck are scarlet. His body flesh looks tender and firm
at same time - deeply alluring. His erection looks thick, attentive
and angry. She drinks in the sight of his exposed, muscled neck,
again. With his generous shoulders supporting and somewhat
surrounding it, his supple-looking neck seems to be the magnificent
centerpiece of his entire animus, the sight of which takes her breath
away.

She leans forward and nuzzles her way up toward his collarbone and
arriving, pauses, catching her own breath. Then she begins to make
love to his neck with her tongue and lips anew, inching her way
upwards towards his cheeks and ears simultaneously winding her fingers
through his pubic hair. He begins to pant shallowly, losing himself
in the sea of sensations she is creating. As she watches him
surrender by degrees, her own breathing begins to mirror his.

The thinking part of Nick is shutting down. He releases a hoarse
groan, as he squirms and strains against his tight wrist bonds. He
breathes laboriously, while helplessly trying to dodge her probing
tongue. He is not sure he can endure the flowerburst exquisiteness of
it much longer.

"Cindy!" he hisses sharply, panting.

She ignores him and lowers herself to her knees, insinuating her lithe
torso between his legs. Hearing him, looking at him - his skin is so
flushed and his chest heaves heavily - she finds it difficult to
breathe herself.

"I'm here, Nick." she mumurs between pants "I'm
not going anywhere!"

He urgently seeks her face out with his own, in his blindfolded
darkness. He is greeted only by the sound and her rising and falling
chest. She fondles his testicles skilfully again, interspersing this
with her maddeningly light raking of his chest, stomach and thighs.

She snakes her fingers up into the small hollows of his armpits, and
along the underside of his testicles, defeating all of valiant
struggling response to avoid her more sensitive explorations. She
bends down to nibble and rub the edge of her teeth on his nipples. He
tries to buck her off him. The gesture is futile. She now begins
coaxing his fleshy piston to swell more, by drawing its skin up and
down gently until he cannot no longer suppress a painful cry of need.
She removes her grip, raking his thighs again. It drives him mad.
"C-Cindy!!" he croaks, his voice barely controlled.

She inches her tongue in between his lip in micro movements, through
his slightly-parted lips. Each movement creates a flowerburst of
sensation. His mouth begins to pulse and ache for her again. How can
such tiny gestures affect him so deeply!!!.

She plunges in and hastily retracts her tongue. Breathless, he pleads
desperately with her this time: "Cindy! please untie me?!!"

"No, no, Nick, my man. Not so soon, I'm afraid." she
replies in a
voice that lets him know that while she sympathises, she isn't
going
to extend her charity far enough to allow him to go free yet. She
continues to draw her hand up and down gently along his turgidity.

He is not expecting this response from her. How far is she planning
to take things? For how long? Does she really expect him to beg? He
could probably stand up right now and insist she untie him. But -
Cindy has won fair and square – he will look like a wimp if he
calls
it quits. He is definitely not a wimp – not yet. But in all
honesty,
he is not even sure if he CAN will his legs to lift him.

While Nick's anxieties flourish, he feels her warm body move out
from
between his legs. He then feels her hand begin to caress first the
edge, and then the inner part of his foot. Almost imperceptibly at
first, he feels a warm, soft wetness enclosing some of his toes. He
feels them being sucked – one at a time - by her hot, slippery
tongue.
She is careful to lick probingly between each toe before she moves
on to the next. Intense neural explosions crack instantly up his leg,
through his thighs, deeply into his groin. His calf begins to feels
her warmth as she continues to lap upwards. She sucks lazily up to
and around his kneecaps. The urgency in his groin grips his entire
body. He realizes he could try and plead again - but he does not want
her to know the extent of his need anymore, while he is still tied up.
While she continues to lap her tongue around and across his sensitive
knees - for what seems like an eternity - he surrenders what little
patience he has mustered. He knows if she continues, he will not be
able to control himself at all.

Cindy strokes the inside of his thighs, moving mercilessly inward
toward his scrotum again. It curls up and tightens in anticipation of
her touch. One hand is already nestled closely to it. But she stops
short. He begins to give in to rising panic. His blind lust delays
him from croaking out his next words: "I want to FUCK you, you
CUNT!!!" he snarls viciously - blurting out words he has never
uttered
to anyone before - desperately hoping she will release him without his
having to beg her. He is not angry with her - he simply wants to avoid
begging.

"Getting hot, are we?' she answers in an almost composed
manner,
concealing her own extreme excitement from him.. She knows she is
taunting a caged lion at this point. This fact frightens and excites
her at the same time.. She will just bring him a little closer… -
before she loses her own head. She rubs the inner part of her wrist
against his penis and whispers tensely in his ear: "I want you
badly,
Nicky!". She lowers her mouth over his swollenness and sucks
steadily. She twists on him and rises, and twists and falls, and
sucks again. She releases him gently, then stands and reaches over
finally, to untie him. She has waited too long, however. Feeling
some part of her flesh brush by him, he turns and instantly seeks it
out with his mouth. He bites hard. She pulls back in shock,
uttering a surprised "O-w-w!", her pride hurt.

"Say you're sorry" she whispers.

"I'm sorry," he croaks with some difficulty, mindful
that she has not
yet untied him. He is unremorseful, but has to cooperate. The
swallowing of his pride in order to say this to her, ironically,
sharpens his desire all the more. The raling sounds of his heavy
panting echo throughout the room. Retaliating a little, she grasps
his aroused and angry erection again, and begins pumping it
exasperatingly gently. Nick bucks furiously, badly craving more
friction. But she is far too quick for him. As he lunges, she deftly
releases her remaining pressure on him. He emits a piercing squeal of
frustration.

The intensity of the sound he makes, quickens her breath all the more.
She decides to straddle herself on him very slowly, mounting herself
on his erection. She gently guides his shaft through her labial
folds, into her vagina, eventually allowing some of her weight to sink
down on him. She absorbs the rest of her weight onto her legs. His
fullness inside her, feels out of this world. Cindy begins to
tremble.

Nick feels like a fire truck with all the bells and sirens sounding
madly at once, as he feels her sink onto him.

"Untie me!!! PLEASE??? – PLEASE????" he begs her in
earnest. There
is an "end-of-one's-rope" sound to his pleas.

"Okay!" she answers reassuringly. "Take it easy
there…" She rids him
of his bonds amazingly quickly.

As soon as Nick has rubbed some circulation back into his wrists, he
grabs her almost violently by her armpits. He lifts her up - with
ease - until he has almost disengaged her from his manhood. She looks
at him, somewhat stunned at how quickly he has snatched away her
ability to choose the course of things - even though he cannot see
her. His fierce, animal growl forewarns her of the male will which is
now taking control of her hardball game of "teasing torment".
Gripping
her tightly, he pulls her inflexibily down onto him in an unhurried
but steadfast manner, ensuring that she cannot exert any power to
speed things up. As she is allowed to fall on him ever so slowly, a
loud gasp flies out of her. By painstaking degrees, he penetrates her
ever more profoundly. He lifts and separates her buttocks, pulling
her even more closely than she thought possible. He prevents any
escape from his deep penetration with his iron-lock hands. She moans.
Changing direction, he begins to push her away. She begins to groan,
gripping him tightly to avoid the sweet aching emptiness he leaves.
Although he cannot see her expression of religious rapture because of
the blindfold, he is largely aware of how she feels simply by the
yieldingness of her. He is overjoyed at having regained control of the
pace of what is going on! He gropes to find her neck and finding it,
quickly encircles his hands around it. He squeezes firmly and then
releases his grip somewhat. Cindy feels shocked - and erotically
excited - by the feel of his hands squeezing her there. She leans
more intimately into him, and reflexively rocks herself gently on his
hardness. He continues to enclose her neck firmly from behind with
one hand. With the other, he reaches to encircle her left breast,
lift it, and compress it. He squeezes lightly at first, and then
slowly begins to crush it. He willy-nilly flicks his thumb over her
hardened nipples, occasionally grazing his teeth over them, keeping
her on edge. Cindy hugs and clings to him tightly, continuing to
kiss his face. He now lifts her again with his powerful arms, not
allowing her to return until she declares her hunger for him verbally.

"What does Cindy want now?' he asks her mockingly.

"Another round of poker?" she quips – then realizes the
extent of her
foolishness -desperately hoping he will not make her pay too dearly
for being a smart ass.

He continues to suspend her unmercifully until she moans with lewd
wanting.

"Say it!!" he barks.

"I..want…you!" she says huskily, eyes full of lust,
continuing to
breathe hard..

"How much?" he insists, brooking no compromise..

She squirms like a fish on a hook.

PLEASE fuck me!." she cries, panting loudly. He reaches up,
sucks her
breast into his mouth, bites it gently, then suckles it for a minute.
He slowly releases it.

"Like this?". Still panting heavily himself, he bucks
himself up,
cruelly stopping halfway.

"Ar-r..Hard!!!" she demands breathless, losing control,
mesmerized by
the sight of his rigid arms.

Sweating profusely, he is almost over the edge. "Like this?'
He
bucks himself only slightly this time, holding her up and away from
him, knowing her intense need only too well.

"JESUS!" Cindy heaves rapidly, eyes wide, locked. She then
squeezes
them tightly shut and bites her lower lip.

"Like this?!?!? He pauses. He then pulls her deeply onto him -
himself deeply into her. Seeking out her lips and finding them, he
plunges his tongue wildly into her mouth.

She screams deafeningly.

They explode together.

Nick squeezes her tightly to him for many long moments, gasping for
breath, then suddenly breaks out laughing. Cindy by contrast, is
unable to move or utter a sound while she continues to wait for her
heavy breathing to subside.

"Yeah…like that.." she huffs very weakly, still
shuddering from her
own retreating spasms.

Composing himself, Nick leans forward smirking, and asks her
solicitously: "You're sure?"

She looks back at him in complete disbelief, saying nothing.

Nick lifts his blindfold. Seeing her helpless, dazed expression, he
finds himself staring hard at her. He then smiles at her wickedly,
and winks.

~ ~ ~


"Did you give Cindy a call?"

"No." lies Nick.

<Hm-m…> Trevor waits for him to continue.

"Actually…"

There is a long, two-minute pause.

"…yes…" Nick pauses again. "Yes, I did." he
corrects himself, and
re-crosses his legs.


~ End of Part 6 ~
 
ICE VEINS 7


May 15, 2004


Dear Ms. Wilson:

It has been brought to our attention that since April 14, 2004, you
have attempted to contact Mr. N. Fallin at his place of business, and
at his residence on at least six separate occasions.

Mr. Fallin has indicated to you that he is sorry for any accidental
discomfort his presence may have causedin the past. He has also
expressed to you that he wishes to avoid any direct contact with you,
per your stated wishes which are in fact, a matter of public record.
He reports however, that you have attempted to contact him at his
personal residence, from your personal residence - leaving no message
on his answering machine - on at least six separate occasions. This,
despite the fact that on no occasion has he attempted to contact you
since your first initiated contact with him, nor responded to any
instance of your calling.

Mr. Fallin has instructed me, as his counsel, to urge you in the
strongest terms to desist from any attempt to propagate any contact
with him in the future, that he perceives no personal or business
interest with you or your immediate associates, now or in the future,
and wishes to be left alone.

Yours truly,

Fallin & Fallin


Clay Simms, J.D.


"And this one…" Clay hands the second letter to Nick to read.


May 19, 2004


Dear Mr. Simms:

I only called Mr. Fallin once, at his office, to apologise about my
friend's behavior. I have no idea what either of you are talking
about, regarding calling him at home. I called Mr. Hart at the
prosecutor's office about your letter to me, and he told me to mail a
copy of your letter to him, and to caution Mr. Fallin again.

Dana Wilson


Nick pust the letter down and looked at Clay questioningly.

"Well, Nick – I suggest you get a new phone line - pronto." Clay
answers to his unspoken questions.

"A new phone line?" Nick is not pleased at this piece of advice.

"Looks like you're being stalked." Clay says, slipping himself of the
credenza he has seated hiimself on, then straightens his pants to
restore its creaseline..

"What??" Nick looks up at Clay, as if Clay is losing his marbles.

"I've seen this shit before. Stalkers can be very sneaky and cover
their tracks." replies Clay, retucking his shirt in more neatly.

"But – I thought this Dana woman couldn't stand me." answers Nick,
puzzled.

"Broads are funny, Nicko, broads are funny." Clay looks at him with
certain amount of amusement.

"Don't call me "Nicko". Nick does not share his amusement, nor does
he appreciate Clay's moniker, "Nicko".

"Okay Nicky! quips Clay, looking down at his wrists, deciding how to
best re-position his cufflinks.

Nick notes Clay never knew when to take a hint.

"FuckO - assHO!" sneesd Nick, as he drops the two letters back into
the correspondence file for Clay, and hands it back to him. It is
language that Nick normally reserves for special people on special
occasions. Clay's obnoxiousness that morning, seems to qualify. And
if it doesn't, perhaps Nick's black mood is sufficient enough,
rationizes Nick.

"Whoa!" Clay smiles, but backs off. No point in getting Fallin's
son's nose - also now his temporary client - knocked too far out of
joint.

Nick has to admit Clay didn't bring much real class to Fallin & Fallin
– but he knows his stuff, and at the moment, its what counts. He had
never wanted to involve Clay in a matter as deeply sensitive to him as
this, but Burton had convinced him that the situation was too serious
for Nick to let his pride get in the way. Burton had effectively
dissuaged him from contacting someone less capable or someone who
might have less loyalties to the firm. Burton had however, certainly
empathised with Nick's reluctance to approach Clay about it

~ ~ ~

Nick has just finished parking the car, and locked the door, when he
remembers he has left his breath mints in the glove compartment. He
goes back to retrieve them. As he leans across the seat, a female
voice greets him from behind.

"Hullo, beauootiful!" says the stranger to whom his posterior faces.
Nick strains to recover himself quickly, slamming the glove box shut
as he does so. He twists around to see the source of the voice.

It's Roxanne.

"What..do you want?" asks Nick, feeling cornered.

"Just thought I'd come over and see what a good car looks like, up
close."

"A good car?" Nick was trying hard to make sense of her presence, and
the reference to his car, and could make none.

"Yeah. My Malibu doesn't come close to measuring up to yours."

Nick felt himself to be star-crossed with ego and danger at the same
time. It was a combination that made it difficult for him to think
straight.

"What are you doing here?" he asls, feeling flustered.

"You wouldn't answer my calls." answers Roxanne questioningly.

"Your calls?" Nick has no idea what calls she is referring to.

"Yeah. I kept calling your place, but you were never home!"

"Why would you call me?" It is dawning on Nick, that he is asking the
wrong question.

"I dunno. You remind me of an old boyfriend – you look kinda like him."

"Are you putting me on? Are you still pissed about me being at
Rocky's - or making that wannabe comment?"

"No, I'm not putting you on! Why should I? I don't need play games
with you."

"So, like I said, why are you here?" Nick persists.

"Wondered if you wanted to go out sometime? Dana isn't interested in
you. But maybe I am."

"Did you call me from Dana's house?" Nick had finally made the
connection, wondering why it had taken him so long.

"Yeah. Why?' Roxanne's mood seem to shift from a friendly one to an
icy one with this question.

"I thought it was Dana calling." replied Nick.

"Well, that was the general idea. I figured you'd be interested in
calling her back." she smiled at her own cleverness.

Nick was appalled, but stifled his dismay. "Look, Roxanne. I went
through a bit of a rough thing. . .and I just want keep my life
uncomplicated. I've asked Dana not to call, thinking it was her that
called. I don't want to be dating anyone at all right now." Nick was
trying to spare her feelings, and to avoid offending her – she seemed
unpredictable, and he did not understand her interest in him, as they
had never really spoken or discussed anything before. He realised
now, how he might have had much of the same palling effect on Dana,
with his being a complete stranger.and showing an intense interest.

"I can wait." replied Roxanne simply. Then, she turned and walked
away with a spring in her step, leaving Nick speechless.

~ ~ ~

"Oh, buddy, that was NOT smart! You do not tell her you "don't want
to date anyone right now". You tell her in no uncertain terms to fuck
off, leave you the hell alone, and never show her ugly face around you
again! – She'll turn that "I'm not dating anyone right now" into a
mission in her life to prove she's the one for you. You haven't even
give her an excuse to back off gracefully – you've told her you're
available.

"That's ridiculous – how can she think I'm available when I've said
I'm not dating?"

"Stalkers twist everything – the real headcases I mean – " Clay
caught himself and made the clarification quickly, realising that Nick
could easily take offense to his analysis. He continued: " - not
dating would be proof that there's no competition for your interest,
and that deep down, you really need them in your life to fill the void
– when it's their void they're trying to fulfil instead of yours."

For an asshole, Clay seems to have more than a nodding acquaintance of
how stalkers were apt to think, thinks Nick, somewhat admiringly – and
unhappily at the same time.

"Mark my words – she'll be back. Maybe sooner than you think! Have
you changed your phone line yet?"

"Not yet." somewhat surprised that Clay is making such an issue out of
it. He is reluctant to change his number which he had had for some
time, and which everyone he knew would need to be contacted about –
there would be questions.

"Do it - ASAP! Follow instructions of counsel..." Clay smiles in
what seems to be a more paternal, less supercilious or vote-fishing
way than usual. Was that a caring remark that just fell out of him
and hit me on the cheekbone? wonders Nick.


~ ~ ~

"Clay Simms."

"Go ahead, Mr. Simms. Mr. Hart's expecting you."

"Hart, I'm here to set the record straight, in person, for Nick Fallin
- he is not the stalker!"

"You sound like you know some things about it –"

"I do. This Wilson broad – sorry, woman – the Wilson woman has a
friend named Roxanne. She made the calls, she's pestering Nick."

Hart looked at Clay with surprise.

"What do you know? What goes around comes around!- without court
intervention for a change!" Hart chuckles with some amusement.

"No, not really, Hart." says Clay, explaining. "This Roxanne is a
bona fide nut job. She's the real deal, I can feel it. She doesn't
know Nick from a hole in the ground and she's called him six times at
his home, and when he doesn't answer, she follows him to hm to the
underground parking lot. I think we've got a real problem here.

"So what do you want me to do? Hart coughed into his closed first,
and recovered himself. "She hasn't walked over enough of a line to
get into this."

"For starters, you could talk to Dana, and have her make sure Roxanne
isn't using her phone to do it. And maybe see if she can talk some
sense into her friend - and I'll need to draft a letter and get an
address to send a letter, the next time she contacts Nick."

"But she may not." countered Hart, habitually playing the devil's
advocate.

"She will." contradicted Clay confidently. "I know it – she even told
Nick `I can wait', when Nick told her politely he wasn't wanting to
date anyone right now."

"So they actually spoke?" asked Hart, realising for the first time
that an actual conversation had ensued.

"Oh yeh -- Roxanne asked him out and he turned her down, saying he
wasn't interested in dating right now." explained Clay.

"Hm. Well, okay. If I have a few moments, I'll try and give Dana a
call. Let me know if this Roxanne woman pops up again. It does sound
odd."


~ ~ ~

"CLAY!!" Nick was very agitated as he spoke.

"What's up, bud?" answered Clay - annoying nonchalantly - thinks Nick..

"There's thirteen goddam messages on my machine from some number I
haven't seen before! – it's gotta be her!" sputters Nick.

"So why haven't you changed your number, yet?" replies Clay coolly.
He'd seen these scenarios more than a few times before. He'd defended
his share of stalkers, violent husbands and rapists. There was a very
good income in it, because most of them were still very concerned
about their reputations, not to mention their ability to avoid jailtime.

"I'm going to do that as soon I hang up." declares Nick.

"Unplug your phone and unplug you answering machine, don't touch the
answering machine – it's the evidence now. Go buy yourself a new one,
and call the phone company from another phone and get a new one put in
tomorrow - don't forget to delist it Park your car a block away, in
case she knows your home address – a lot of them get into tire slashing.

"Don't you think that's overreacting a bit? Tire slashing?" asks
Nick, barely keeping his anxiety in check.

"Don't you think 13 calls the day after you've told her to `buzz off'
is already over the top, man?"

"Yeah. I guess you're right." Nick reconsiders Clay's analysis,
remembering the morning he and Cindy had taken the cab together.

"Follow –

"- the advice of counsel. Yeah, yeah – thanks - talk to you later!"


~ ~ ~

"Hello?"

"EasTel, good day. Telephone services and repair. How may we help?"

"I want a new, unlisted number.."

~ ~ ~


 
End of Part 7
 
 
--+--
 
 
ICE VEINS 8


"You're too mean a poker player!" whispers Nick into the phone,
dodging Cindy's suggestion for a game rematch on the upcoming weekend.

"Aw!...' coos Cindy, with not the slightest hint of remorse.

"Why don't we skip the foreplay this time, and go straight to the
foreplay!" suggests Nick, interested to hear Cindy's response to his
*non-sequitured recommendation.

"I'm listening..." replies Cindy.

"I could spank the stuffing out of you..." Nick grins at the thought.

"Horrors!" replies Cindy.

"Then separate your cheeks..."

"Are you calling from work, Mr. Fallin?" she says suddently in a
formal tone. Nick considers that perhaps her boss has entered the room
where she works. But Nick is in fact also calling from work. He
catches himself.

"We'll have to pick up this conversation soon. What are you doing for
lunch?"

"I only get half an hour" replies Cindy disappointed at having to
decline lunch with him.

"Hm-m. Let me see how the day goes here – what time do you finish
work?" asks Nick.

"I've got..." Cindy stops herself in mid-sentence. What can't wait
until after a date with Nick? she reflects - she could always shop
another time. But she then has another idea…" - I have to make a stop
after work. I should be home around 6:30...is that okay?"

"Can't promise anything – but I'll call, one way or another..."
replies Nick.

"Okay then." Cindy hangs up. She has not done any fine needle
embroidery in a long time. But this evening, she will be doing some
before Nick arrives.

~ ~ ~

It is ten to seven, and Cindy wonders if Nick has forgotten to call.
She goes to the fridge and fishes out a bowl of salsa and puts it on
the table. As she pulls down a bag of corn chips from the cupboard, a
fortune cookie tumbles onto the counter from an old bag of almond
cookies which she has inadvertently knocked onto the floor. The
fortune cookie, like the rest of the cookies, is too stale to eat, but
she pops it open to read the fortune anyway. It reads:

"The social scene can be fun today"

Hmph-ph. Guess that fortune must have been meant for months ago. She
then empties the rest of a bag of corn chips into a bowl. Her buzzer
sounds. She finishes shaking the bag empty, and walks over to the door.

"Hey, Nick!" she exclaims in surprise – I thought you were going to
phone! But in the flesh – well, that's so much better!" She slips a
finger through one of his belt loops and tugs gently, to signal him to
enter.

"I guess you're not concerned about your neighbours..." comments Nick,
tilting his head a little, and smiles.

"Au contraire" answers Cindy – I don't want them to miss the fact that
there are more exciting things going on in my life than serving
process servers!"

"An exhibitionist." volunteers Nick with a shy grin.

"Not quite." Cindy smiles slyly at him. "Not quite..." She runs her
fingers gently down the front of his shirt. Touching him seems as
natural as breathing. He folds his hand gently over hers and draws it
to the center of his back. He embraces her closely as they stand in
the entranceway, exulting in the warmth of her. He begins to knead
his fingers sensuously through her hair as she buries her face in his
shirt. Her heartbeat quickens, as memories of their last encounter
are vividly brought back by the feel of his hands so close to her
neck. She pulls slowly away from him, extricating herself from his
arms gently.

"Oh, yes…there's the matter of a well-deserved spanking that we were
discussing…" comments Nick, feeling a little abandoned that she has
chosen to pull away from him so soon. "Did someone come into your
office, while we were talking this morning?" he suddenly remembers how
the conversation had veered off topic.

"Yeh – my boss' boss walked in, so I made like you were an associate
of someone we were trying to serve." she explains, as she begins to
head toward the kitchen.

"Fast on your feet, I see – as well as fast with cards. You had that
whole thing planned out for us last time, didn't you?" He follows her
languidly.

Cindy smiles back at him, having been caught in her designs.

"Yup. I'm a planner."

"What other plans have you got going, that I don't know about?" Nick
asks, feeling a little more wary now.

"Nothing too high-powered for a top attorney like you." She offers
him some corn chips. He is peckish enough to take a couple.

"Top attorney?" Nick queries between crunches. He feels she is
playing with his ego. It sounds like false flattery.

"You think we don't hear about about what goes on in this town?"
replies Cindy, extending the bowl of salsa to him.

"Like what?" says Nick, rejecting the salsa since he has just finished
his last piece. He wipes his mouth and hands on a paper towel, and
instinctively pulls her back toward him with arm reaching around her
waist, wanting to rebask in the shared heat of the earlier moments
before she had drawn away from him. He discovers to his pleasure,
that she seems most agreeable and pliant to his touch. I guess she
wants me to chase her, he thought. Cindy briefly reaches her hands
around his neck and kisses him lightly on the lips, and releases him.
She starts to answer his question, and he is torn between wanting
to listen and wanting to silence her, to return her kiss.

"Well for instance, we all heard about that baby who had the terminal
illness, and you got the court to let it die a natural death - end its
misery."

"Barb must have told you about that one." Nick deduces immediately.

"No. It was in the paper," Cindy corrects him. "They did a write-up
on medical ethics involving terminal infants."

"Hm!" Nick is genuinely surprised. He had not been aware of the article.

"And we know about that guy who cokes himself up before he goes into
the boardroom – we've had to serve papers for him before – whoops I
guess I shouldn't be telling you that – anyway – it's no big deal –
I'm sure you'll find out about it eventually, since he's your client."

Cindy has truly surprised Nick with this one. He knows the legal
community tends to be small, but he hadn't imagined anyone would be
paying much attention to his activities outside of his immediate
circle. Cindy has proved him wrong in this as in other things.

"You know too many of my secrets, Cindy. You realise I'm going to
have to kill you now..." replies Nick wickedly, adding "one spank at a
time" He quickly grabs her, lifts her, and wrestles her to the couch,
while she resists him almost fiercely He finds it difficult to hold
her in one spot, as she wriggles and squirms.

"Hold still, or it'll be worse for you!" he warns her.

"No fair! – you didn't win at anything!" she cries in protest.

"But I'm bigger!" he retorts. He hesitates to add "stronger", until
he has secured her more thoroughly. She continues to wriggle under
him, until he finally manages to twist one of her hands behind her,
and apply the type of pressure guaranteed to quiet her. She is strong,
but no match for him when his adrenaline begins to surge.

He is about to bring his hand down on her, just to assert his victory,
when an idea crosses his mind.

"You're a planner; I'm a negotiator. I'm going to give you a chance
to negotiate your way out of this, this time," suggests Nick in a tone
that sounds more than a little ominous to Cindy.

"I won't tell any of your secrets!" pleads Cindy.

"No, you won't. But I want a lot more from you than that."

"Like what?" asks Cindy breathlessly, nervous and intensely curious at
the same time, about what he has in mind.

"Like, you'll have to let me go down on you – no pulling away." He
savors the thought of having her hot and panting while he remains
largely unaffected, still smarting from how much control she was able
to garner between them, at his last visit.

The idea panicks Cindy more than the idea of being spanked. She has
never allowed anyone this act of intimacy with her, fearing her own
deepest desires.

"Spank me instead."

"If that's the way you want it…" says Nick, concealing his disappointment.

Mildly annoyed, Nick cups his hand slightly, and smacks her hard on
principle.

"Ow! Ow! Oh, that hurts so much!!" wails Cindy. Her bottom throbs so
hotly through her gray bikini underwear that even Nick notices the
change in temperature through the cloth. He also notices there is no
tan line on Cindy's very tanned, perhaps still slightly sunburned legs
as she squirms under him.

"One last chance!" he warns.

"Okay, okay..." she accedes to him - she is no mood for pain.

She twists herself until she is on her back, and they are facing each
other. She sees his brow is wet with perspiration from having
struggled with her. She covers her eyes with her arm to avoid the
intense gaze of his green-gray eyes. He slips a finger gently under
the top of her panties. His attention is then caught by some dark
discoloration or imprint covering the front of her panties - no, not
imprint really – something else - writing (?) He looks more closely
and sees small fine letters which he realizes are embroidered right
into the cloth. It reads:

"Nick, these panties
clothe the best "cunt"
YOU'LL ever f---!
X "

On seeing his crudeness mirrored back to him so teasingly, Nick is
momentarily lost for words. His erection springs to life. Recovering
himself, he resumes pulling the soft gray cloth of her panties down
very gently, very slowly. He breathes hotly, and grazes the tip of
his tongue lightly across the top of her pubic hair. It causes Cindy
to involuntarily jerk, squeak, and moan softly all at the same time.

This is going to be fun, thinks Nick - he is feeling patient - we'll
see who's going to be the best f--- around here! We'll just see...

~ ~ ~

End of Part 8


*non-sequitur - does not follow logically