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female Falling (Meagan & Parker, Four Seasons Ch. 4...the finale?)


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Hey, everybody.

This is "Falling," Chapter 4 of "Four Seasons," the Meagan & Parker sequel I said I wouldn't write. We began way back in December with "In the Cold Midwinter", then continued with "Springtime Promises", then brought things to a fever pitch with "Summertime, and the Peein's Easy." (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm glad you still clicked on a post labeled "Chapter 4", and maybe you should start from the beginning!)

For those of you who remember, the "Summertime" story got our heroes in a really tough place in their relationship. I took pity on y'all and posted the beginning of "Falling" just so you could see that they weren't breaking up. But now it's time to take that a bit further.

Here's the upshot, though: I'm starting the chapter properly, so the first bit will be a repost. And I'm telling you right now (and bolding it so you won't miss it), there might not be any pee content in this story. This is really about wrapping up the emotional situation our heroes are in. So read on if you want to know how it ends; if you're looking for some quick sexy desperation, try one of my other stories.

It feels so epically strange to basically be posting a story on a fetish site not to turn people on, but to provide emotional closure... but I'm doing it anyway.

Okay, here goes. This first post is the repost; then we'll get into some new content.

 

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"Falling"

 

 

He woke up the next morning on the couch to the sound of a closing door.

He sat up, and his brain caught up. She’s gone.

Oh, thank God.

The night before, after the lightning had passed without a drop of rain, they’d scavenged some kind of supper. She’d said little, but hadn’t been totally silent. And the entire time he was waiting, silently begging, for her anger to begin.

Come on. Shout at me, throw things, hit me even. Show me I didn’t break you. Show me I didn’t snap you. Show me that I pushed you too far, but not so far you’ll never come back…

Instead she’d just been quiet. “Pass the salt, please,” etc. She’d brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, went to bed early. Didn’t tell him to stay away, but he’d exiled himself to the couch anyhow.

Please get mad at me.

Please get mad at me.

Please get mad at me.

So if she’d at last left the apartment and was gone, that was a beginning. Not a good beginning, but more familiar. More normal. Not that mouse-like skittish silence.

Not crying.
    
---------------------------------------------------------   

She didn’t come home all day. Or that night.

Good, he thought. Our first big fight, she was gone two days. She needs time to calm down enough to get angry. Besides, she’s got classes all day.

He spent the day working through every job search trick he could think of, and then he he scoured the internet for more ideas and tried those too. He honed his resume, then created four or five different versions of it. Then he watched movies until he nearly fell asleep, and then he put the laptop away, brushed his teeth, and went to sleep on the couch again. But he got out a spare sheet; he needed something across him to really sleep.

The next day he tried to make a better budget, but kept running aground on his awareness that (a) Meagan was much, much better at it and (b) on an income of zero dollars, no budget ever worked. Between that and the tension of hoping that Meagan would walk through the door at any moment and start screaming at him, he couldn’t focus on movies and just watched videos on YouTube until the network gave out, and then he archive-binged webcomics, and then he lay down on the couch for the third straight night.

But lying in the semi-dark of the apartment, his thoughts raced and raced and raced. The twisted reassurance of her absence had faded. Now he was just worried that she was never coming home. It made no sense, of course—there was no way she’d abandon her car. But:

“Promise me that you’ll stay with me as long as you want to,” she said. “And you’ll leave me the day—the minute—you no longer want to stay. As soon as I start to hurt you, as soon as it’s no longer good, make it quick, and just go.”

Finally, around 1am, he got up and turned the lights back on. She’d left her backpack, and he went around stuffing things into it: toothbrush and tampons, wallet and car keys, her ancient laptop and its charger, her favorite underwear and her favorite shirt. He set the backpack down by the door. Then he wrote a note, set it on top of the pack, and collapsed back onto the couch to sleep at last.

Meagan—

Here are some things you’ll probably want.
You don’t need to wake me up say goodbye unless you want to.
I’m so sorry. I’ll love you forever.

Parker

 

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

 

He awoke with Meagan’s arms around him, and he relaxed into her grasp—until he realized that he was still on the couch, and woke up the rest of the way as he floundered to his feet in confusion.

She woke up herself at that, and sat up, blinking. “Hey,” she said, quietly, muzzily.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you angry at me?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Thank God.”

She wrinkled her nose. “And good morning to you? I think?”

“I’d rather you were mad at me than at yourself,” he said. “I’d rather you were mad at me than broken.”

She slowly toppled over over onto her side. “Oof,” she said. “It’s too fuckin’ early for that level of emotion. Especially since the thing with the sheet.”

It was his turn to be confused. “Wait, what?”

“The sheet on the couch,” she said. “Means you’ve been sleeping on the couch since I left. Even though the bed was empty.”

He spread his hands. “I didn’t know when you’d come home.”

“Okay, if we’re gonna have this conversation now, I need coffee.”

“I’ll make some.”

“And a shower.”

“I’ll—um.”

She grinned, just a little. “Got you that time.”

By the time she came out, wrapped in a towel, the coffee was nearly ready. She took a quick sip before she even got as far as the bedroom to change. In the bedroom door she hesitated, just for a split second, and he leaped to his feet and headed for the living room, saying, “I won’t look!”

“Silly boy,” she called back to him. “Um—seems like some of my clothes are missing?”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, and grabbed the backpack from the door, and ran back into the kitchen.

“What the fuck—?” she said as he handed the backpack.  

“If you came back in the night and wanted to just get your stuff and go, but I was asleep, I wanted you to be able to grab a lot really quick. All the things I thought you’d need.”

“Okay, this I need to see,” she said, and dumped the contents of the bag out on the bed. “Tampons? You thought of tampons?”

He shrugged. “They seem important.”

“That they are. And here’s the shirt I was looking for… and, um, the bra…”

“Your favorites. Oh, uh, you don’t need the note anymore…”

She snatched it. Read it. Gave him a long look.

“I was just trying to help.”

She shook her head. “Fuck, lover. You don’t do anything by halves, do you.”

He shrugged.

“This is of course coming from the woman who just walked around campus for days,” she said.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“I napped in the library for a while.”

She dropped the towel. He started to leave the room, but she said, “It’s fine, hon, it really is.” So he stayed, but still didn’t look. He noticed, however, that she didn’t go to the dresser, meaning she was dressing herself entirely from the bag he’d packed for her.

“No socks?” she said.

“Damn it. I must have forgotten. It was past 1 in the morning…”

She shrugged. “Day like today, I can go barefoot.” She sighed. “That feels better.”

“Um. Do you want to talk now?”

“I want breakfast.”

“What do you want?”

“Just cereal is fine.”

“I can make you some eggs…”

“No, I just need something to shove in my mouth and stave off starvation.”

When they’d both eaten, and while he was washing up, she came and stood next to him at the sink. When he finished and set the last bowl in the disk rack to dry, she laid a light hand on his arm and said, “So hey. We need to talk.”

“We need to talk a lot.”

“But, uh, does it have to be right now? Because I really wish you could be kissing me. Can you just be kissing me now?”

“Really?”

She nodded.

He obliged.

“We’ll still… need… to talk,” he said, during the pauses.

“Uh-huh.”

“Like, we got some major issues…”

“Not… right… now.”

“Yeah, but, um… how far do you want this to go? Because you just took a shower and got dressed, so I’m guessing no sex…”

She pulled back. “I think we gotta wait on sex for a while,” she said.

“Well, yeah. I thought so. But, um, you were kinda feeling me up. And you just got dressed right in front of me, from being naked. So I was feeling some slightly mixed signals and I wanted to check.”

“Okay, see? This. This is what you should have—” She broke off.  

He waited.

“That’ll be one of the things we’ll need to talk about later,” she finished, awkwardly. And kissed him again, also awkwardly.

The rhythm was broken, and the making out tapered off.

“So,” he said.

“So?”

“Um. I know we’ll talk later, but, uh—are you breaking up with me?”

“That’s one of the things we need to talk about,” she said quietly.

His heart plunged through the floor toward the apartment below. “That’s a yes.”

“No, it’s a ‘We’ll talk later,’ ” she said firmly. She hesitated. “Are you breaking up with me?

He sighed. “I really, really, really don’t want to,” he said.

“Not quite a no.”

“No. I mean, I agree.”

She flashed a grin at his confusion. “Okay. So we’re agreed on that. No breaking up until we’ve talked.”

“Agreed. But no sex.”

“No sex yet.”

“Kinda confusing, but I can work with it. Makeouts, however: yes.”

“Agreed.”

“Back rubs?”

“Massages in general: yes please. My feet and my legs are killing me.”

He started on her feet, knowing that doing those properly required his hands’ full strength. And then, when his thumbs could take no more, he started working on her calves, and then up to her… “Um, are you okay with me massaging your thighs?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Proximity.”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Whew, you really are tight. You walked the entire time?”

“Well, I did go to classes yesterday.”

“Whew.”

“You were worried I was skipping class? With exams coming?”

“I was worried a lot. About a lot of things. Oh, hey, want to see my resume? I worked on it a lot while you were gone.”

“I will absolutely read it,” she said, “but not right now.”

“Okay. You’ve got class, right?”

She shook her head. “Not today, it’s our study day. So actually, I might just nap for a while…”

“Okay.”

When she woke up, she stretched and said, “It’s way too hot in here.”

“Yup.”

“You and I,” she said, “never do great in extreme heat.”

“Does anyone?”

“…Okay, fair point. But what I mean is that we should go someplace else. Somewhere with air conditioning. Then we can talk.”

“We’re gonna have a deeply emotional and intense conversation in public?”

“Well, we’ll do it quietly.”

“Art museum.”

“Hmm…? Oh! That’s a great idea. Let’s do it.”

They drove. It was not an impossibly long walk; but they drove anyway.

“Oooh, there’s a photography exhibit!”

“I know, that’s why I thought of it.”

They walked through the columns to the front door, and then drifted through the first floor galleries, barely even noticing the art at first, just reveling in the AC. The photography exhibit was on the second floor, though, so they took the elevator up and admired it; and then they found the vertical gallery and Meagan wanted to know how far down it went; and when they got to the bottom of it, they saw that there was one more level down, and down there at the bottom, with almost no one else around, Meagan sat herself down in a corner and patted the spot next to her, so they could both lean back and still see each other.

“I’ll go first,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Can you just listen for a bit?” she said, more wearily than angrily.

“Sor—” he snapped his mouth shut.

Her lips twitched in amusement, but nothing more. A moment later she said, “I’m sorry that I kept snapping at you about money. Nobody’s born knowing how to do it, and a lot of people never learn, and you’re trying. You’ve got a—no. I’m sorry for assuming you knew things, and then getting mad at you when it turned out you didn’t.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, even though no one seemed to be around. “And I’m sorry I called you a sicko. I promised myself after that time with Dacy that I’d never use your kink against you. But I did. It’s the kind of thing I used to do, before I met you. Use what the boys wanted against them. What I did there… that was evil.”

There was a long pause.

“You can ta—I mean, I’m done for now,” she said.

“Oh, okay.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry I pushed you too far. Way too far. What I did to you was inexcusable.”

“It’s not what you did,” Meagan said, “it’s how you did it. We could have done that, done all of that, if we’d talked about it first and agreed to it. But we hadn’t. You were just being a bully.”

Anger surged. “So that. That right there,” Parker said. “You’re always treating me like I know nothing, jumping in to correct me. But then you’re usually right. So I really don’t know anything…”

“You’re right, too, though,” Meagan said. “I’ve always taken the lead. If I’m going to say we need to talk about things first, then we need to talk. Not just me telling you.”

“I’m not actually finished yet.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry about the ice cream, too.”

“The what—? Oh. Oh, Parker. That was so not a big deal—”

“But it was, though. I wanted to do something nice for you to cheer you up. So I could have asked. But instead I just went with what I thought would work. So it’s part of the not-talking. And you were right about the money. Again.”

“It wasn’t just the money,” Meagan said with a sigh. “True confessions?”

“Go ahead.”

“You brought out that ice cream and my thought process was literally If I eat that I’ll get fat and then he’ll leave me. That all went through my head in half a second. But I didn’t dare say that. You leaving me was too scary a thought. So instead I yelled at you. Projection.”

“But you’re still right about the money.”

“Money and sex,” Meagan said with another big sigh. “The two things that break up the most relationships.”

“Really?”

“Money is responsible for something like fifty percent of all divorces in this country, yeah.”

“Are they going to break us up?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

“Do you want to?”

Meagan spoke slowly, picking her words with great care. “If these problems keep coming up, then I think we should break up. If. They don’t have to. And I hope they don’t.”

Parker thought for a moment. “Speaking as someone who knows he’s got a lot to learn,” he said, with equal care, “I know I’m going to mess up a lot while I’m learning. So can we say that if we try—hold on. Let me put that differently. I know the problems will keep coming up while we learn how to deal with them. So can we say we’ll break up if we don’t get any better at dealing with the problems when they come up? Because they will.” He paused for a second. “Since nothing is ever perfect. Someone I know taught me that.”

“Damn,” Meagan said, with an appreciative lopsided grin, “look at you being so smart. Yes. That’s so much better than what I said.”

“It’s not a competition,” Parker said. “We both brought something to the table and we ended up with something better than before.”

“Which is how relationships are supposed to work,” Meagan said. “Can I kiss you, you smart man, you?”

“Only if I can kiss you back.”

“You may.”

“Let’s do it.”

When the kiss broke, she whispered to him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I really do.”

She scooted over so she could sit next to him, and draped her arm around his shoulders, and cuddled up close to him. “I don’t know when we’ll be able to cuddle like this again,” she said, “what with the weather.”

“We can always come back. Or find other air conditioning.”

“True. Very true. But I still want to make the most of it now.”

 

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

 

That night, after some last-minute cramming, Meagan got ready for bed in the stinking heat of their apartment by taking another quick shower, and then coming into the bedroom dripping wet, as she had so often before on the hot nights—although she usually came in completely naked, without a towel around her waist as she had tonight. She stood in front of the window fan, arms spread, water droplets evaporating off her bare skin. And Parker stepped close behind her, placing his hands gently on her hips and kissing her shoulders. He heard her breathing change, just a little, and she bent her head slightly to bare her neck, so he started kissing that. She arched her back, flexed her fingers, and gave a little sigh. He slid one hand up her side to cup her breast…

And she jerked away from him.

“Sorry,” he whispered. (They were right in front of the window, of course, albeit with the blinds closed.)

“I… I didn’t…” she began, then rallied. “I didn’t know I was gonna react that way. Sorry.”

“I should have asked—”

“No, it should have been okay. You’ve done that hundreds of times, no problem. And I was enjoying the kissing.” She paused. “I think we need to wait on that a bit longer,” she said, in a small voice.

Sleeping in a bed with a partner who was uneasy about being touched was itself uneasy. Meagan’s body went from being a wonderland to a minefield.

But it was a little too hot to cuddle properly, anyway.

 

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

 

“I need a job,” Parker said, two days later.

“You really do, hon.” Meagan was halfway through exams, but with the hardest class out of the way, she was already feeling more relaxed.

“There just aren’t that many jobs out there.”

“That’s true, but it’s not zero. You’re probably going to have to lower your standards, though. Barista. Waiter.”

“I’ve never done anything like that.”

“Well, give it a try. Any income at all will help.”

“I still want to try something with cameras, though.”

“Nothing wrong with trying,” Meagan said.

Parker threw himself into the search, but he quickly realized that so was everyone else. Every job he applied for was now demanding years of experience—if the bosses could only afford one or two employees, then they had to be the best. Parker applied anyway, and got almost zero callbacks.

But then, at the end of August, a small miracle: Photographer seeks assistant for temporary work. Parker applied immediately.

“Sure, son,” said the gruff voice on the other end of the line. “You sound like you know what you’re doing, but bring in your portfolio on Thursday and we can talk.”

“What kind of temporary work are we talking about?” Parker asked quickly.

“I’ve got to photograph every public school student on the west side,” the photographer said, “and I can’t stand little kids. I’ll do all the high schools but I need someone for the elementaries.”

“Portraiture, got it. See you Thursday,” Parker said.

When Meagan got back from her workout, Parker burst out, “I need a portraiture portfolio by Thursday!”

“Huh, I was just gonna say ‘hi,’ but I like this.”

“Sorry. Hi. I love you. Can I take, like, fifty headshots of you? Tonight?”

“Tonight? Does it have to be tonight?”

“I need to develop them tomorrow so I can take them in on Thursday. Unless you’ve got a digital camera hiding somewhere.”

“I’m kind of a mess right now…”

“Actually, that’s even better, because the kids won’t be perfect either.”

“Kids?”

So Parker quickly explained his breakthrough, and Meagan’s eyes lit up. “I get it,” she said. “And Parker, that’s… how many schools?”

When they looked it up, Meagan grinned. “That’s at least seven or eight schools. Probably nine. And then retakes later in the year. That’s at least a week of work, Parker. Not a lot, but something.”

“So I need to show him I can take decent pictures…”

“And so you need a portfolio, and so you need to take pictures of me.”

“You got it.”

“Okay. Sure, I’ll let you glamorize me to advance your career. But I insist on taking a shower first.”

They started simple, taking down a poster to use a bare white wall as background, and bringing in every lamp in the apartment that wasn’t attached, and then draping a white bedsheet over the lamps to diffuse the light, and then having Meagan sit in various poses, and after ten or twelve shots like that, both of them were a little bored and the roll wasn’t done and it was getting to be the “magic hour” outside, so they went out and took more pictures of each other to use up the film, and then they went to bed.

When Meagan came home from campus the next day, Parker met her at the door with his pictures: a dozen headshots of Meagan in different poses, in several sizes.

“Well, lover, I still think I look weird,” she said, flipping through them, “but I know it’s ‘cause it’s a mirror image of me, and I know that ‘cause you told me. And I gotta say everything else looks pretty good.”

“Which ones do you like the best?”

“Can I at least set down my bag first?”

“Here, let’s do the comparisons on the coffee table… I like this one.”

“That’s okay, but I think this one is better.”

“Well, but this angle…”

After they’d settled on eight to be his portfolio, Parker pulled out the other pictures they’d taken.

“Oooooh,” Meagan said, “I love the light in this one…oh, and you got the picture of me in the tree!”

“And I like this one of us.”

“Mmm. Yeah, that one worked. Keep the negatives, I’d like this one of you in wallet size.”

“This one’s my absolute favorite, though,” Parker said, pulling out the one on the bottom of the stack.

“Why?”

“Because of the light on your face, and your smile.”

“What was I even saying?”

“I think you were laughing.”

“What were you saying, then?”

“I can’t remember…”

“Something about ducks?”

“Maybe. Have I ever said anything hilarious about ducks?”

“You’re a capable man, Parker Daniels. I’m sure you’ve said something hilarious about ducks many times.”

After dinner, Meagan went back to the couch for a while as Parker flipped through the internet at the kitchen table. And then Meagan walked past him to their bedroom, and was in there for a little while; and then she came back, and said, “Smile for me, Parker.” And click.  

She had the Polaroid camera.

“Stand up,” she said. “Pose for me.”

“Silly? Sexy?”

“Play it straight,” she said. “Just be handsome for me.”

He leaned against the wall, put his hands in his pockets, and tried to play it cool.

“No, no,” she said, laughing. “Just relax!”

He eased up, but still held a bit of a pose to make sure the shadows worked okay.

Click.

“The light’s not great in here,” Parker pointed out as the picture faded into view. “Over by the window would be better.”

“But I want you to take your shirt off next.”

“I can do that over by the window, too.”

She posed him how she wanted him. He looked at her shot and recomposed it, pointing out a few little ways to use the light better, with and without the shirt. Click. Click.

And then she ran her hand down his bare back and pulled him towards her for a kiss.

Parker’s heart rate soared.

She took him by the hand and led him from the window to the bedroom. Pictures were spread out on the bed: Polaroids from the blackout of the winter before and the photoshoot they’d done back at college and a few occasions in between. A few other favorite pictures of Meagan, or both of them together, were mixed in.

“You make me look beautiful,” Meagan said softly. “And that makes me feel beautiful. Sometimes I forget that.” She kissed him again. “But tonight I remembered. And I want to make you feel beautiful, too.” Another kiss, long and lingering

“I’m okay with this plan.”

“I thought you might be.”

“Do you want to…?”

“Yes. Yes, I want you,” she whispered. “But let me do it my way, please?”

“Gonna make me wait?”

“Not that way. Just—let me steer, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sit on the bed.”

“Let me get the pictures off,” he said.

“You do that,” she said, and took her shirt off.

Pants came next, and his underwear, and she fondled him hard (not difficult to do). She sucked and licked him slowly and carefully while she slipped a hand into her panties and fingered herself. Occasionally she paused her attentions of his erection and kissed his hips or his thighs or his hands. Or she just looked up at him, caressing his skin anywhere convenient with her free hand.

He looked back at her, a mixture of exhilaration and terror swirling through him.

“It’s strange,” he said. “We’ve done this so often. But I’m still so scared.”

“I get it,” she said. “I’m scared too.”

“Do you want to stop…?”

“No. I’m scared but I still really want you right now. Do you want to stop?”

“Not at all.”

She stood up and slid her panties off. She grabbed the lube from the bedside table drawer and knelt astride him, kissing him even as she slathered the lube along the length of his hard-on. His breathing picked up speed quite a bit, and she slowed her strokes, but kept kissing him. Then she said, “Lie back,” and when he obeyed, she lifted herself up and down onto him.

He ran his hands over her slowly thrusting thighs, and up to her hips, and around to her butt—and she froze for a second. She reached back and pulled his hands away. “Not my ass,” she said.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, and resumed her long, lingering thrusts.

Keeping her hands away from her butt, he again caressed her thighs, her hips, her belly, and up to—

This time she almost swatted him away. “Not my breasts, either.”

Fear spiked in him again. “What’s going on, love?”

She’d stopped thrusting, and dropped her eyes. “Just let me do this my way, mmmkay?”

“All right. But can’t I touch you anywhere?”

“My clit’s fine,” she said, slightly impatiently. “Go ahead and touch me there as much as you want.”

He did so. She shivered at the touch of his thumb. Arched her back. Took a couple deep breaths. Leaned back towards him again, and ran her hands over his body, and bent to kiss his face. His hardness was dwindling. He kept circling her clit, not daring to stop.

“That’s just right,” she whispered in his ear. “Just right.”

“Um, I’m not, not quite.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I got you.”

Those words did as much to stiffen him again as the several quick thrusts she made.

She rode him a long time, stopping once or twice to add more lube. He watched her, fascinated, fearful, too anxious to climax. And when her thrusts slowed to a halt and she lay herself down on him, she whispered, “Did you come…? If you did, I missed it.”

“No, but it’s okay. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” she said. “It was still good, though. It felt good to have you in me.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “You had me worried…”

“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t expecting to flip out about being touched like that. Here.” She took his hand in her own and laid it gently on her butt. “There we go. No problem.”

“Because you invited it and controlled it,” he pointed out.

“You gonna join me in the Psych department, hon?”

He shrugged modestly, a difficult feat with his lover lying on him. “I’ve learned a few tricks. Um, do you want to come?”

“I think I’m done tonight,” she said. “I’m gonna go pee.”  

“Okay. But before you go—”

“Hmm?”

“One, thank you. This was good. And two, I love you.”

“I know.” She got up and crossed the kitchen to the bathroom.

And she closed the door.

 

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The next day, he’d gone to the photographer, who took a look at the Meagan-portrait portfolio and chuckled. “Well, you can certainly make her look good,” the man said, “but with a girl like that, it’s not hard.”

“I know, I’m pretty lucky,” Parker replied, knowing it was true and hoping it would stay that way.

“Still, you clearly know your light and your angles. If you can manage working with screaming kids, you’ll do.”

“Sure,” Parker said, hoping that was true, too.

It turned out that he could handle elementary schoolkids well enough—one at a time, if he applied enough pure silliness—and he slogged his way through nine campuses in two weeks’ time, one a day. Then he did a week of retakes. And at the end of it, the photographer said, “Nice work. You get to do all the family portraits with kids from now on.”

This turned out to be much harder work, since it often involved babies. And babies took an entirely different level of silliness, which required more of an effort and often didn’t work even then. And any customers waiting in line for their portraits could be a little exasperated by baby delays, and took their frustrations out on him. The first time some customers left because he was taking too long was devastating. Especially since he wasn’t getting paid by the hour, but on commission.

But he was getting paid. Two Fridays later he brought home his first check stub, proud despite its size, and began to work out how it needed to be spent. Rent took the lion’s share, of course, but he also took the shopping list and bought some groceries, and also set aside as much as he dared and put it in his savings account—the first time in months that account had gotten bigger. When Meagan came home, and saw the rent check written out for the landlady, groceries in the fridge, and the budget he’d worked out on paper, she grinned and kissed him.

“We should celebrate,” she said. “Go out for a drink or something.”

“I don’t want to blow my first paycheck!” he said.

“We should have a little fun, lover,” she said. “I’ll split a bottle with you or something.” So off they went to the store again, brought home a bottle of passable rum, and watched Pirates of the Caribbean for the third time while sipping a Dark n’ Stormy apiece. By the time the credits rolled, they were both a little tipsy. Meagan scooped up Parker’s pay stub and waved it about. “Aztec gold!” she giggled.

“ ‘You’re sure you’re not a pirate? You’re completely obsessed with treasure,’ ” he said.

“ ‘Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate,’ ” she shot back, looking him in the eye.

“Is that so?”

“It is indeed,” she purred, and kissed him. He kissed back. Before long she was straddling him to make out, and he could feel her breathing picking up speed. And not long after that, she pulled off her shirt and put his hand on her breast.

He sobered instantly. Well, not entirely. But he knew he had to say something. “Hey, love, we’re both a little drunk. Are you sure…?”

“I’m not drunk,” she said. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m not gonna regret this in the morning; been meaning to do it for days. It’s time I got over this. Past time.” She hesitated for a second. “But you’re gonna come in me, not on me.”

“I am totally fine with this.”

She rode him again, both of them laughing and relaxed, and when he ran his hands up to cup her bare breasts she just closed her eyes in pleasure at the caress. He came quickly and enormously in her—too quickly, really. He apologized, but she just said, “It’s fine. I want my vibe, anyway.” But when she got up to get it, she realized how much of his cum was dribbling down her legs. “Wow,” she said.

“It’s been a while,” he pointed out.

“Is that your first time since…?”

He nodded.

“Wow,” she said again, shaking her head. “No wonder. Your balls were full, boy. Well, let me wash up, and then I can come for the first time since… in a while.”

It was a good thing she’d wanted the vibrator, he reflected as she arched against the couch cushions, panting and moaning. The vibe wasn’t about to get soft from over-thinking, but he would have. All through getting her off, he kept thinking about how she’d gone to the bathroom to clean herself up, and closed the door behind her.

Am I ever going to see her pee again?

You don’t deserve to, he told himself firmly. Count yourself incredibly lucky that you get to make love to her again. That’ll have to be enough for you.

Edited by Weasel (see edit history)
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  • 2 weeks later...

I’m glad that the bathroom did have a sink that was too far away from the toilet… although the scene itself not really sexual, the image that I have of Parker aiming between her legs kinda is 🙂 Overall a very cute chapter of our favorite lovebirds… There’s a lot relationship talk and talk about the future in this chapter, and since the beginning of the story I imagined that it could end in marriage, but now I guess not… (yet?). Not that marriage should be the end goal or anything, it’s just that Meagan and Parker are together for so long (I think it’s sitcom logic convincing me that it a series goes a long way, marriage always gets involved). Off course this story isn’t a sitcom… interested to hear how this will develop further.

Thanks for continuing this story Weasel.

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18 hours ago, Weasel said:

Thank you, all of you who have followed this story through. Thank you for the love you have for Meagan and Parker as characters, not just porn. Thank you for the encouragement and the feedback. It's been a delight to tell these tales for you, and I feel lucky that I've been able to see them through to the end. 

Take care, everyone.

Thank YOU, @Weasel, for writing a very, very good story centered around our shared interest. Stories this good and this long especially at the same time are rare and I thoroughly enjoyed it ('though I must admit you almost made me cry too at some points). I'll definitely miss it, but you're probably right about stopping in time and I'm very glad this series got the ending it deserved.

18 hours ago, Weasel said:

(Plus I really do need to start writing more non-omo stories!)

Now this little bit here stings a little more. I really do hope we'll get to read more from you some day, whether it's about Megan and Parker, their friend, their daughter, Bree and Tam, or whomever it may be.

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On 10/21/2023 at 11:03 AM, warham1995 said:

I think its funny that instead of giving the little tyke a name you called her a girl child

Yeah, that was kind of a last-minute decision, I suddenly thought that Meagan would be the kind of mom to not post her kid all over social media, and then I just extended that to no name and no dialogue. 

On 10/22/2023 at 2:58 AM, ola93 said:

('though I must admit you almost made me cry too at some points).

Ooooh, mission accomplished! But when...? Now I'm curious what made you tear up.

On 10/22/2023 at 2:58 AM, ola93 said:

Now this little bit here stings a little more. I really do hope we'll get to read more from you some day, whether it's about Megan and Parker, their friend, their daughter, Bree and Tam, or whomever it may be.

Definitely not daughter, that would be weird. Maybe Bree or Zephyr. But I really do need to write non-omo stuff if I'm ever gonna have a non-omo writing career!

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Wow… just wow. This ending deserves a standing ovation, it’s so satisfying. So the story didn’t end in marriage, and I really didn’t see “the kid” coming, but it makes so much sense. Thank you so much for the “fan service”, Weasel (although you maybe don’t think of it that way), this way I feel “closure” about what has been an amazing journey. It’s so satisfying that I’m not even mad that it ended, and that you should never start Meagan and Parker again.

Although there has been a lot of amazing omorashi fiction on the internet over the last 20 years… This is something that has never been done before. This is not an omorashi story, this is great literature. Again, this deserves a standing ovation. This is what art is; you made something unique. My English vocabulary isn’t large enough to properly express my praise, but thanks a lot Weasel.

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On 10/22/2023 at 8:36 PM, warham1995 said:

speaking of zephyr, are we going to get more of pi pi sigma after you are done writing non-omo stories?

I'm never gonna be "done" with non-omo fiction. On the other hand, I can guarantee that at some point in my life I will be feeling both creative and horny... and when that day comes, PI Sigma Sigma is next on my omo list.

 

On 10/23/2023 at 8:52 AM, Flush said:

 It’s so satisfying that I’m not even mad that it ended, and that you should never start Meagan and Parker again.

Although there has been a lot of amazing omorashi fiction on the internet over the last 20 years… This is something that has never been done before. This is not an omorashi story, this is great literature.

Wow. High praise. Thanks, @Flush! And I gotta admit, I'm pretty proud of this saga I wrote, and proud of breaking the mold of omo stories. There have been other "meet cute/fall in love" stories ("Do You Have Anything to Confess?" comes to mind) but I did try to make this story more than just the porn and more than just the romance.

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Weasel, it's always a pleasure to read your stuff; I feel I might be missing out by not getting to see your non-omo stories 🙂  Thank you for making this little gem for us, and for what it's worth, this last part was different enough from the earlier installments that I'm glad you wrote it.  We need more people writing about healthy (or at least, believably healthy...) omo relationships instead of just wish fulfillment. Maybe I'll re-read it all and see whether I agree with your evaluation about which part is best.  (You don't plan to release the whole thing as a handy PDF, by any chance?)

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On 10/27/2023 at 3:16 PM, Ranpalan said:

Weasel, it's always a pleasure to read your stuff; I feel I might be missing out by not getting to see your non-omo stories 🙂  Thank you for making this little gem for us, and for what it's worth, this last part was different enough from the earlier installments that I'm glad you wrote it.  We need more people writing about healthy (or at least, believably healthy...) omo relationships instead of just wish fulfillment. Maybe I'll re-read it all and see whether I agree with your evaluation about which part is best.  (You don't plan to release the whole thing as a handy PDF, by any chance?)

Thank you! Yes, I was definitely trying to model good relationships. And yes, I do plan on releasing a PDF at some point.

 

On 10/27/2023 at 7:02 PM, Foolishthree said:

Why yes, I do go to my preferred porn fetish site to read a very wholesome story about two kids learning to get past codependency and build a healthy and mutually respectful relationship.

And come back later to read it again because it's the best thing I've read this week.

Glad to oblige. And thanks for the kind words.

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