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SHADOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT
STORY INFO
They were just shadows in the moonlight, living a fantasy.
8.7k words
4.878.5k1918
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Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
226 Stories2527 Followers
Author's notes:

Frequent readers of my work know that much of it tends to fall within
two primary genres. Still, once in a while, I do like to venture onto
the road not commonly taken and throw a curve. So please take note of
the category this story has been posted to and be forewarned. Still,
even if it isn't your normal cup of tea, I do hope that you might read
it anyway.

Although ratings are nice, nothing beats a comment or two about what you
liked or disliked about a story. Please take a moment to leave one.
Thank you.

*

June 1977

"Lovely, isn't she?" a voice from behind Josh asked, startling the blond
haired twenty year old.

Mesmerized by the young woman in the portrait, Josh hadn't heard anyone
come up behind him. He turned and found, only a few feet behind him, an attractive Hispanic woman in her early thirties. Tall, maybe an inch or
so more than his own five six, she had short, jet black hair cut just
above her neckline and wore a low cut, sleeveless blue dress that drew attention to a compact bust. Her skin was deeply tanned, as if she'd
just spent a week at the beach, and Josh also couldn't help but notice
that she wasn't wearing a bra, her pert nipples pressing tightly against
the thin material of her outfit.

"Excuse me?" Josh asked.

"The young woman in the painting -- she's quite lovely, isn't she?" the
new arrival repeated. "I assume you thought so as well, since you've
been staring at her for almost ten minutes."

As if that hadn't been true, Josh glanced back at the painting, acting
as if he was viewing it for the first time. It was a side view of a
young woman about his age, with fair skin and brown hair done up in an elaborate style. Standing near the edge of a river bank with thick
foliage in the background, the brunette wore a light colored dress
dotted with an indistinguishable pattern, a garment that hung low enough
around her body to expose both her right breast and the small of her
back. It had caught Josh's attention as he walked past, her beauty
compelling him to stop and take a better look.

"I guess she is," Josh finally agreed as he turned back to the woman
behind him, trying to downplay his attraction to the semi-nude portrait.

"Do you think that, when she posed for that painting, the young woman
had any thought that, over fifty years later, people would still be
admiring her beauty?" the woman in blue asked.

"Fifty years?" Josh repeated, momentarily confused.

Stepping up beside him, the dark haired woman pointed to a small metal
plate situated under the bottom of the frame. On it appeared the title
of the painting, the artist and the year of the work, which read 1919.

"A small bit of immortality," the older woman said with a smile, "or at
least a chance to influence young hearts beyond her time."

"I guess so," Josh replied, feeling slightly embarrassed by the thoughts
he'd been having about a woman now probably older than his grandmother.

"I love that the artist thought to leave at least something to the
viewer's imagination, don't you?" she asked. "A bit of mystery for a
potential lover to discover on their own."

Josh looked again at the portrait and realized that she was right. It
wouldn't have been half as captivating if she was totally nude. It was
what you couldn't see that was the real attraction.

"Oh, let me introduce myself," the woman said as she realized that she
hadn't done so. "I'm Anya Martinez."

"Josh, Josh Miller," the younger man replied automatically.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Josh Miller," Anya said with an inviting
smile. "I don't think I've ever seen you at one of Randolph's revelries before."

"Who?" Josh asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Randolph Cabot, your host," Anya stated, an equally bewildered look on
her own face. "Don't you know whose party you're at?"

"Honestly, not really," Josh admitted. "Oh, I know he's a Broadway
producer or something like that, but that's about it."

Her expression now reflecting a bit of skepticism, Anya took a closer
look at the young man. She hadn't thought much of it initially, but, in
just a pair of slacks and a buttoned shirt, he did seem a bit
underdressed for the occasion.

"Did you come here with someone?" Anya asked, considering the idea that
he was someone's date, adding to herself that he was certainly cute
enough to be someone's boytoy.

'No," Josh replied, quickly adding, once he saw the way she was looking
at him, "I guess I should explain."

"Maybe you should," Anya agreed, recalling someone saying that there had
been a few recent robberies in the area -- two of which had occurred
during parties.

"My uncle owns Ricci's Pastries and I sometimes make deliveries for him
on weekends," he said, pulling a half dozen business cards from his
shirt pocket, having only realized now that he'd forgotten to leave them
by the dessert trays. "I ..."

"A food delivery, this late?" Anya interrupted him, confirming with a
glance at a nearby clock that it was almost a quarter to ten.

"As I was saying," Josh continued, ignoring the interruption. "My uncle
was just closing up shop when he got a call asking if we could deliver a
second order because, the caller said, more people had shown up at the
party than had been expected. They didn't care what we brought, but they
needed it now. So, we just boxed up what we had left and that was it."

Taking one of the cards and looking at it, Anya recalled that she
herself had noted earlier that more people than usual seemed to have
showed up for the party. Still, that didn't explain what the young man
was doing out here admiring the artwork. Josh seemed to anticipate that question as he finished his explanation.

"After I made the delivery, I was about to head home to Brooklyn, when
the gentleman who signed for it suggested that I hang around and get
myself something to eat," he said. "I hadn't had dinner, so I figured,
why not?"

"A tall, slender middle aged man, slightly balding with a beard?" Anya
asked.

"Yeah, that was him," Josh confirmed, her change in expression telling
him that he'd just described Randolph Cabot.

"I'm sorry for being so suspicious," Anya apologized. "I ..."

"That's okay," Josh smiled, knowing that he was a bit out of place.

What Josh didn't realize was that, even if he was no longer viewed with skepticism, he was still an object of curiosity in Anya's eyes. She
wondered if the gregarious producer might have had an ulterior motive in inviting the young man to stay. It certainly wouldn't be the first time,
she told herself, having observed several such occurrences herself. But
then, after considering the thought for a few moments, she discarded it.
Cute as Josh was, he really wasn't Randolph's type and besides, why take
a chance on an unknown quality when the house was filled with affable
guests, many eager to share his company? Anya, however, loved the
challenge of unknown qualities.

"So, have you been enjoying yourself?" Anya asked, changing the subject.

"Well, it's been interesting," Josh said diplomatically. "The crowd here
is certainly different than where I normally spend Friday nights."

"Oh, and where would you usually spend a Friday night?" Anya inquired.

"My friends and I like to go to a disco in Bay Ridge," Josh answered.
"You might've heard of it, 2001 Odyssey, it's pretty popular."

"Named after the movie?" Anya inquired, the Stanley Kubrick film having
long been a favorite of hers.

"I don't know, maybe," Josh replied, having seen the movie even if he
hadn't understood it. "You know, they filmed a movie at Odyssey; some
friends and I even got to be extras in it. It starred that guy from
'Welcome Back Kotter' and it's supposed to come out later this year. I
don't what they're going to call it, but it was awesome."

"I'm sure it was," Anya replied, seeing that the young man was really
excited by the fact that he got to be part of the scenery in a film no
one would probably ever remember.

"Did you ever watch the show?" Josh inquired. "It takes place in a
Brooklyn school."

"I'm afraid I'm not much of a television person," Anya admitted. She had
heard the name of the show, but had never watched it.

Nor had she ever heard of the disco Josh mentioned. As popular as it
might've been in Brooklyn, it was still in Brooklyn, and as far as most Manhattanites were concerned, it might as well have been Outer Mongolia.
Now, if he was talking about that new place up on West 54th Street that
had opened a few months ago, then she would've been impressed.

"Since you're out here in the hall admiring the artwork, instead of the
main hall with just about everyone else, I assume you didn't find anyone
in there that struck your fancy?" Anya asked, again shifting the subject.

"Well, I know some of them are probably your friends, but I thought most
of them were the most boring people that I ever met," Josh replied. "All
they seemed to be interested in was who was appearing in what show and
what auditioning might be coming up."

"Of course, what did you expect?" Anya laughed. "After all, this is,
basically an industry party. If Manufacturers Hanover had an office
party, don't you think most of the guests would be talking about banking?"

"I guess so," Josh agreed after thinking about it.

"You have to understand, most of the people that come to these little gatherings come to be seen, not to make new friends," Anya expanded.
"There are only so many roles per season, and it can get pretty
cutthroat come audition time."

"Then why are you out here with me, instead of out there being seen?"
Josh inquired.

"I said most, not all, and even then, that really only applies to the
talent," Anya said, explaining that her contribution to the industry was backstage.

"Oh, I thought you might be an actress," Josh noted. "You're certainly
pretty enough."

"Why thank you kind, sir," Anya said with a smile and a fake southern
accent. "In a way, I sometimes am an actress of sorts, but I much prefer
being behind the curtain than in front of it."

Josh was about to ask Anya what it was that she did when she cut him off
again.

"Did you ever get something to eat?" she asked, recalling what he'd said before.

"No, I never got around to it," Josh replied, adding that he'd spent his
time exploring and listening to the people around him.

"I see," Anya replied. "I asked because I'm suddenly feeling a bit
hungry myself," she explained.

Josh wrongly assumed that was Anya's polite way of excusing herself from
the conversation. So he said that it had been nice to meet her and was
about to move off when she corrected his impression.

"Where are you going?" she said.

"I thought you wanted to go get something to eat," Josh said.

"I do, but that doesn't mean that I don't still want to talk to you,"
she smiled. "You might not realize it, but not being part of the
industry makes you possibly the most interesting person here tonight.
What do you say I get us both a little plate of snacks and we can find a
better place to chat?"

Josh thought that was a great idea and patiently waited by the portrait
while Anya excused herself for a few minutes. When she returned, not
only did she have a small tray of delicacies in one hand, but two flutes
and a half full bottle of champagne in the other.

"I assume you're old enough to drink," she said as she handed him the
glasses and bottle, "not that I'm going to tell anyone if you're not."

"I'm twenty," Josh said as he accepted it.

"Oh, I remember twenty," Anya mused, a mischievous smile filling her
face. "Of course I was a much different person back then."

"Everyone changes as they get older, don't they?" Josh noted.

"Some more than others," Anya again smiled. "Oh, by the way, in case
you're curious, I'm thirty-four."

"You're kidding," Josh reacted, surprise in his tone.

"How old did you think I was?" Anya inquired.

"Twenty-six, maybe twenty-seven," he said.

"Now I'm definitely not letting you go," she laughed as, taking a better
hold of the large platter in her hand, she motioned for Josh to follow her.

She led him down the hall, further away from the party, then up a back
flight of stairs that led to the second floor. A second hallway
followed, leading to a pair of French doors that opened onto a small
terrace. There Josh saw a pair of padded chairs and a small table,
nestled among a small forest of potted plants. Through small gaps in the greenery, the lights of midtown could just about be made out.

"Wow, this is amazing," Josh said as he laid the bottle and glasses on
the table. "Are you sure Mr. Cabot won't mind that we're up here?"

"He won't if we don't tell him," Anya replied as she set the tray on the
table. "Now, why don't you pour us some of that champagne?"

As Josh proceeded to do so, Anya seated herself in one of the two
chairs, reaching out for one of the drinks once both glasses were full.
She took a small sip and smiled.

"I'll say one thing about Randolph Cabot: when he throws a party, it's
first class all the way," she said as she laid the glass back on the table.

Josh also took a taste of his drink but other than thinking it did taste
good, he had no way of judging the quality of it, his palate being more accustomed to beer than champagne. Still, he had seen the bill for the
delivery that he'd made earlier and it hadn't been cheap. His uncle had
nearly doubled the cost of everything and Mr. Cabot hadn't even given it
more than a glance before signing it.

"Now, where were we?" Anya asked as she took an hors d'oeuvre off the
tray and popped it into her mouth.

"I was about to ask what it was that you did backstage?" Josh said,
remembered that he'd never gotten to ask.

"I'm a costume designer," Anya replied.

"I'm not totally sure what that is," Josh said.

Anya took a few minutes to explain, after which Josh said it sounded
like an interesting job.

"Oh it is, and I love it," she replied before asking what he did when he
wasn't working for the catering service.

"Well, I've been taking a few college classes, but I'm really not sure
what it is that I want to do yet," he replied.

"Few people are at your age," Anya offered.

"Did you?" Josh asked.

"Since I was ten," she smiled.

She then proceeded to ask Josh a bit about his personal life, surprised
to find that he didn't have a girlfriend. He replied that he did date
often, but hadn't yet met anyone that he could see himself with long term.

"Well, there's no rush for that," Anya said. "The important thing at
this point in your life is that you enjoy it. Actually, that's the
important thing at any point in your life."

Having been asked about his social life, Josh felt justified in asking
Anya about hers. Like Josh, she replied, she dated when the mood struck
her, but had not found 'the one' yet. Until then, she was just enjoying
life as it unfolded.

"Besides, it takes an uncommon man to handle a woman like me," she
concluded, before again reaching for her drink after having had another
tidbit.

Even having only just met the woman across from him, Josh had no doubt
that was true.

They moved on to other topics, alternating questions back and forth long
after both the snack tray and champagne glasses had been emptied. Josh
learned a great deal about how a Broadway show was produced, finding it
more complicated than he imagined. He'd once taken a drama course in
high school and acted in a few plays, but none of them had been anything
like what Anya described.

"Have you ever thought about being an actor, as a career I mean?" Anya
asked. "You're certainly cute enough."

"Not really," Josh answered, a grin filling his face at the compliment.
"I mean, I enjoyed doing it, but making a career out of it seemed as
much a matter of luck than talent."

"That's often true," Anya offered. "What is it that they say? For every
actor starring on Broadway, there's a thousand waiting on tables."

Josh nodded his head, having heard at least a variation of that.

"Oh my goodness, look at the time," Anya said as she happened to glance
at her watch. "We've been talking for nearly two hours."

"It didn't seem like half that long," Josh remarked.

"Well, good company makes time fly by," Anya smiled, "and you've been
excellent company."

Josh grinned, thinking that it'd been a long time since he'd just talked
to someone. Of course the fact that Anya was also an attractive older
woman didn't hurt either. Josh would've been lying if he didn't admit to
having imagined how Anya might look if she had been the woman in the
painting he'd been admiring earlier.

"Having said that," Anya continued, a noticeable disappointment now
appearing in her voice, "I'm sorry to say that I'm going to have to
throw a damper on our fun. I came here with a friend and she wanted to
leave by midnight. In fact, she's probably already looking for me."

'I guess it was too good to last,' Josh thought as he said that he
understood, adding that he'd probably overstayed his welcome anyway.

As Anya got up from her seat, she impulsively leaned over and kissed
Josh on the cheek, saying again how nice it had been to meet him.

"You made what I expected to be a very drab evening anything but," she
smiled, her hand resting on his shoulder for a long moment before
turning away and heading back through the double doors.

Josh stayed on the terrace another ten minutes or so, admiring the view.
He wondered if he should bring down the now empty bottle and the
glasses, then decided against it. Doing so might only invite unwanted
questions about what he'd been doing upstairs.

Reaching the front entrance, Josh discovered that quite a number of
guests seemed to have also decided to leave with the new day. A small
crowd filled the vestibule as people made their goodbyes.

-=-=-=-=-

With no one of his own to say goodbye to of his own, Josh managed to
slip through the melee with little difficulty and work his way down the
outside staircase of the town house to the street below. Heading for the
side alley where he'd parked his small van when making the delivery,
he'd gotten about a hundred feet away when he heard a now familiar voice.

"You're fuckin' kidding me," he heard Anya say to one of the other
attendees in a voice loud enough to carry.

Curious as to what was going on, Josh reversed direction and walked back towards the bottom of the staircase.

"I'm sorry, Anya, I didn't know Constance was your ride home," Josh
heard a man he didn't know say. "All I knew was that she was in no
condition to drive, so I put her in a cab and sent her on her way. She
didn't even mention your name."

"I guess it's too much to hope you took her car keys, if she was that
drunk," Anya said, thinking that if he had, she could drive Constance's
car herself.

"I figured she'd need her keys to get into her apartment," the man,
whose name Josh later learned was Archie, said. "Again, I didn't know
that the two of you came together and besides, I thought you'd already
left."

"I was up on the terrace," Anya said.

Archie gave her a 'how was I supposed to know' gesture and then walked
away, wiping his hands of the situation.

"Is there something wrong?" Josh asked as he stepped up to Anya once she
was alone.

Anya was surprised to again see Josh, but quickly explained what had
happened, filling in the gaps between what Josh had already overheard.

"It's going to be a bitch getting a cab this time of night," she noted
as she concluded her narrative, "and I fuckin' hate taking the subway at
any time."

"Where do you live?" Josh asked, something that hadn't come up during
their conversation, other than a general comment that she lived here in Manhattan.

"Christopher and Hudson," Anya replied, "down in the West Village."

Josh was only marginally familiar with Manhattan, having been working in
the city for just a few months, but did know where the West Village was.
He thought about it for a few seconds, then quickly came to a decision.

------------

SHADOWS IN THE MOONLIGHT
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Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
226 Stories2527 Followers
"I was planning to take the West Side Highway down to the Battery
Tunnel," Josh said. "That goes right past the West Village. It'd be no
trouble to drop you off."

"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much out of your way?" Anya asked, her
voice reflecting both a sense of gratitude and a reluctance to impose.

"Not at all," Josh insisted, his own tone firm. "A ten minute detour,
fifteen at the most."

"Well, I am a bit underdressed for the subway," Anya grinned as she
glanced down at her outfit, "so I guess my answer is yes."

"Great," Josh said. "Is there anyone you need to say goodbye to before
we leave?"

"No, we're good to go," she responded, slipping her arm through his as
she gave him a warm smile of appreciation.

-=-=-=-=-

Traffic turned out to be heavier than Josh expected, so they didn't
reach the West Village until shortly after one. Once there, however,
Josh was gifted with an extraordinary bit of luck as, just as he turned
onto the block Anya had directed him to, a car pulled out of a parking
spot only a few doors away from the multi-family that she lived in. His original intention had been to simply pull in front of a hydrant and let
her out.

"Well, here we are," Josh said as he shifted into park and turned off
the engine.

"I really appreciate this," Anya said, again expressing her gratitude.

"It was the least I could do, since you only missed your ride because
you were keeping me entertained," Josh said as he turned toward her.

"I don't see it that way, but I'm grateful either way," Anya replied.

Not knowing what else to say, Josh merely smiled again.

Anya turned to her right and started to reach for the door handle, only
to abruptly pause. Withdrawing her hand, she turned back to Josh, a look
of deliberation flashing across her face. The younger man was curious as
to what might be going through her head, but thought it imprudent to
ask. He did, however, think that her not having left yet was an
encouraging sign.

"I know it's late," Anya finally said, "but, seeing as you found a
parking spot, I was wondering if you'd like to come in for a cup of
coffee or something?"

'Or something,' were the key words that Josh's mind focused on,
considering the myriad possibilities those two words might encompass in
the few moments before he said that he'd love to.

-=-=-=-=-

Anya lived on the second floor of the three story building, in a small,
three room apartment in the rear of the landing. It wasn't much, she
said as she opened the door and let Josh in, but it served her needs.

"I hope you don't mind Mr. Coffee," Anya asked as she stepped over to
the tiny kitchenette and took two coffee mugs from the overhead cabinet.
"I know some people still swear it doesn't taste as good as coffee made
in a percolator, but I find it so much more convenient."

"Mr. Coffee is fine," Josh replied, thinking that his father was one of
those people, even seven years after the automatic coffee makers had
come on the market.

As the machine had already been set up for the morning, all Anya had to
do was turn it on. Then, after telling Josh to make himself at home, she excused herself to change into something more comfortable.

Almost ten minutes passed as Josh sat on the couch and waited, long
enough for the coffee maker to complete its task and shut off. He
wondered if he should pour the coffee into the cups, but then decided to
give her a little more time. A few minutes really wouldn't make a lot of difference in the coffee, he reasoned, but it would allow himself to
wallow in the fantasy of why she had actually invited him up.

It would of course, be more than nice if his imaginings proved true, he thought, even as he acknowledged the unlikelihood of it. Things like
that only happened in those adult paperbacks you found in the back of
the candy store or in those movies they ran in some of those rundown
theatres up in Times Square.

Or so he told himself, right up until the moment Anya stepped out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a short nightdress and a pair of black
panties, clearly visible through the thin material of the sleeping gown.
As she walked toward him, it was clear the material of the gown was even thinner than the dress she had exchanged it for, because not only could
he still see her nipples but now her full areolas as well.

Once Anya sat down next to him, he couldn't help but stare at her
mounds, especially since it was apparent that she wanted him to do so.
Long seconds passed until, not knowing what else to say, Josh pointed
out that the coffee was done.

"Oh, is it?" Anya asked as she moved closer to him, allowing a fragrant
scent that hadn't been there before to fill the dwindling gap. "Tell me
the truth, Josh: when I asked you to come up, you were really hoping for
more than coffee, weren't you?"

"Yes," he admitted after a short pause, his voice low.

"Good," Anya smiled, "because I'd have been greatly disappointed if you weren't."

With that, she laid a hand on his lap, her fingers coming to rest
against the bulge found there. She gently squeezed his hardness, smiling
even more as Josh reacted to her touch.

Josh wasn't a virgin, and hadn't been since high school. In the interval
since, he'd been with enough girls to feel fairly confident about his
sexual prowess. Still, for some reason, he suddenly felt like the
awkward teen that had traded virginities with Tina Gavin the night of
the Prom. Was it, he asked himself, because Anya was older and more experienced, or was it something else?

"You've been with a woman before, haven't you?" he heard Anya ask as she reached around to the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair.

"I've been with girls," Josh replied, thinking that by stating the
distinction it might alleviate his unexpected nervousness.

"Ah, so you think there's a difference between being with them and being
with me?" Anya asked as she brought her hand around and stroked the side
of his face.

"Yes," Josh replied, again in a low voice.

"Baby, you have no idea how true that is," Anya laughed, before asking,
"Tell me, do you have an adventurous spirit?"

"I think so," he answered, his tone more like normal as he began to feel
more confident.

"We shall see," Anya grinned as she suddenly again slipped her hands to
the back of his head and, pulling his toward her, kissed him hard on the
lips.

-=-=-=-=-

'God, can she kiss,' Josh thought as he felt Anya's tongue swirl against
his own, even as she took hold of his hand and placed it against one of
her breasts.

Unlike most of his friends, Josh had always preferred small breasts, in
fact, both of his serious girlfriends had been no more than 32Bs From
the familiar way Anya's mound fitted into his palm, he guessed her to be
about the same size. His fingertips rubbed against her nipple, causing
it to grow hard with his touch, even as their lips again met.

"Do you like my little titties?" Anya asked once their mouths parted.

"I like them a lot," Josh replied.

"Then let's give you a better look at them," she offered as, grabbing
the sides of her gown, she pulled it up and over her head, tossing it
aside once it was clear.

The thin garment had barely hit the floor before Anya again wrapped her
hand around the back of his head and pulled it down against her breast, slipping her now erect nipple between her lips. Filled with excitement
at the unexpected turn of events, Josh eagerly drew the thick nub into
his mouth, rubbing his tongue hard across it.

There was a sexual aggressiveness in Anya that Josh found incredibly
exciting. Not to say that the girls he'd been with before had been
wallflowers, but almost without exception each had insisted that they
weren't that kind of girl, usually just before proving the opposite. The exception was Debbie Wachowski, who'd suck your cock in the back of the
car if you so much as sprung for pizza and a coke and didn't really care
who knew it.

Josh continued to enthusiastically suck on her breast, duplicating his
efforts on its twin in due course. His fervor spurred on by soft moans
of delight from Anya, he again worked his way back up to her mouth,
where another round of tongue hockey ensued, throughout which each of
them eagerly used their hands to explore the other's body. Josh ran his
hands down the length of Anya's back, soon reaching the cheeks of her
ass, which he grasped firmly, the warmth of her flesh evident even
though the opaque material.

Anya ran her fingers down across his chest, tickling him through his
shirt as her hand dropped lower and lower until it came to rest against
his crotch. There, pressed against a cock already grown hard, she took
Josh's measure, judging its length and girth until a smile appeared on
her face.

She rubbed her hand back and forth a few more times, putting a smile on
Josh's face as well. Then, after sharing one last kiss, Anya slipped off
the couch and down onto the floor. Filling the void between his legs,
she proceeded to eagerly undo his belt and the slacks that it held in
place, tugging on the sides of the latter until she was able to pull
both them and the simple white briefs beneath down to just past his
knees. Once she did so, his no longer restrained cock popped up
forcefully, standing erect on its own merit.

Anya took a moment to admire Josh's manhood, pleased to see that it
lived up to the appraisal she'd made with her hand. Six inches in
length, and a third that in width, it was perfect for her needs. She
pressed the tips of two fingers against the underside of its crown, then
ran them down along its length until they reached the underside of his
balls. Then, wrapping her entire hand around the base, she guided the
now exposed treasure toward her waiting mouth.

"Oh God," Josh gasped loudly as the warm wetness of her mouth engulfed
his manhood, sending a surge of delight rippling across his body.

Josh was no stranger to blow jobs, having had his share of them from
girls in the neighborhood, yet, it didn't take long for him to realize
that this one was going to be different. He didn't know if it was simply because Anya was older, and presumably more experienced, but she
certainly put Debbie Wachowski's celebrated skills to shame, and with it
her claim that Brooklyn girls did it better. Still, that wasn't
something to ponder now as Josh leaned his head against the back of the
couch, content to just relax and enjoy Anya's attention.

And enjoy it he did as, watching Anya's head bob up and down on his
hardness, Josh felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over him, a pleasing
fog that made it all seem almost surreal. But it was very real, he
reminded himself, because no dream had ever made him feel so good.

It didn't take Josh long to feel a familiar sensation building in his
loins, although, truth be told, his cock was so sensitive that it rarely
took long, and he knew that it wouldn't be much longer before that
growing pressure would erupt with explosive results. Experience had
taught Josh that most girls didn't like having a guy come in their
mouths, Debbie being the notable exception, so he thought it only proper

[continued in next message]

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