Welcome to "This Never Happened: Part I"

'This Never Happened' is one of the best loved fanfiction stories based on Janet Evanovich's popular Stephanie Plum series. Unfortunately, the story's author, Jude, passed away before she could finish her incredible love story about Stephanie Plum and Carlos Mañoso.

FanFiction is a great medium to draw people together and this one story in particular brought four new friends together to accomplish a special and meaningful project. Blue Orchid, the daughter of Jude (JudeCairnsmom), and three Fanfiction friends came together for the purpose of presenting a continuation and conclusion to Jude's beloved but unfinished story, This Never Happened.

We will be posting new chapters to this story and hope you enjoy reading our offering of the second half of this remarkable love story. Part 2 of TNH is the creation of Jude's daughter and three FF friends who wanted to see a talented writer's vision completed.

However, we highly recommend you read the first 84 chapters (Part 1) before beginning Part 2. We include a revised version of Jude's first 84 chapters changing only the misspelled words and inconsistencies critical to the story that Jude herself never had the time to make. Her daughter is unable to access her mother's posted story or profile page so we are creating a new profile page to launch Part 2.

To find the photo links to the pictures chosen to illustrate this story, go to either our profile page or Jude's profile page, both which have the working links.

Disclaimer: This is an AU story set before the timeline of Janet Evanovich's series. Many of the characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Some are original to this story. No one is making any money from this.


By Jude

Somewhere in an A/U. Characters belong to Janet Evanovich; I'm just playing, not making any money on this project (sadly).

Babe story; HEA; smut alert and graphic language ahead, so be warned.


"If he moves that sad little sock puppet of his any closer to me, I swear to God I'm going to show him how much damage 4-inch stilettos can really do," I guaranteed my giggling companions as we watched the almost naked male dancer gyrate in what had to be the absolute worst attempt to turn a woman on that I'd ever seen in my 26 or so years.

Not that I've been the object of that many men trying to turn me on, mind you. Sadly. And certainly not lately: I'd been off men completely since my 5 minute marriage to that primo horse's ass Dickie Orr had gone sour after I'd caught him boinking my life-long nemesis and champion skank Joyce Barnhardt on our dining room table. I hadn't had an orgasm in a dog's age…an old dog, at that. And frankly, it didn't look like that was going to change anytime soon. Nope, men were pond scum, not to be trusted in a relationship; I'd learned that the hard way. But, hell, I admit I'd kinda been looking forward tonight to seeing a really hunky well-endowed guy up close and personal as he strutted his stuff in just one step above his birthday suit. My hormones weren't dead, after all; they were just on a very long sabbatical.

My name, by the way, is Stephanie Plum. Formerly Orr, but thankfully the papers I'd received from my attorney yesterday had legally wiped that unfortunate chapter out of my life and restored my maiden name to me once and for all. I'm 5'7", with an unmanageable riot of curly brown hair, blue eyes, and a Hungarian-Italian ancestry that I readily admit is truly scary. I might be unlucky in the men department, but Life had blessed me with my Hungarian genes which had allowed me (thus far) to indulge in my passion for junk food and sweets without hauling the results around on my ass. From what my Grandma Mazur tells me, that blessing lasts only until age 40, so I'm still safe for another 14 years. That's a lot of Tastykakes and Pino's pizza; but since I'm giving up men, I intend to make the most of my genetic advantage. Hey, a girl's gotta live a little, right?

I'm currently employed as a lingerie buyer for EE Martin in Newark, NJ, and my companions this evening were a dozen or so of my female co-workers. While the job isn't anywhere near as sexy or exciting as it may sound to some, it pays the bills just fine and allows me to rent my own one bedroom apartment in Chambersburg where I grew up. EE Martin is a far cry from Victoria's Secret, another addiction of mine. I spend my days haggling over the price of nylon panties and dealing with guys who are hoping to get into mine. Not happening, either before or after Dickie Orr. Nope, like I said: I'm steering clear of the male population for the next 20 years or so. They just aren't to be trusted. But damn, I'd still hoped to get myself a floor show tonight of what all I'd been missing out on. Damn hormones!

The pasty-skinned stripper-now down to only a black satin g-string and wiggling desperately-was truly pathetic. No muscles. Not a very impressive package either, as my over-sexed Grandma Mazur would say. Whoever the hell had hired him for this bachelorette party ought to be shot for her efforts. I had strong suspicions who that was, but that was neither here nor there. A dozen of us had all contributed $75 each to the office kitty to fund what was supposed to be a really great bachelorette party for our well-liked office manager Stella Markowitz. Clearly we'd gotten hosed for our efforts. Not the first time, unfortunately. Wouldn't be the last, either.

Let me assure you that I can appreciate a nearly naked man gyrating in front of my face just fine, thank you very much. Just not this particular guy-no matter how drunk I might get or how hormonal I happened to be at the moment. Nope, this damned fool was about as appealing to me as watching my old high school history teacher Elroy McFurkle strip. Hell, for all I knew, this could well be good old Elroy's progeny: I could kind of see the resemblance in the beady eyes and the nerdy vapid face, now that I thought about it. Good God Almighty, that was more than scary!

"I need another drink," I blurted suddenly, shaking my head to drive out the unwelcome picture. Thoughts of Elroy in a g-string were enough to make me want to toss my cookies, and now every time I looked at this guy I was gonna have that picture burned into my poor brain. "Anyone heading to the bar for a refill?"

"Nah, I'll pass this time around," said my long time EE Martin co-worker Tina as she took another sip of her martini and rolled her eyes long-sufferingly, "Hey? Question for you, Stevie. Do you think we can slip him dollar bills to put his clothes back on?"

"Try it, couldn't hurt any." I advised. Hell, I'd contribute $20 to that cause myself.

"Geez, Louise! Is this guy the absolute dregs or what?" Stella, our petite no-longer-bubbly bride-to-be wailed unhappily as she flounced over to our table, "I swear, this just plain sucks! I get probably the one opportunity of my entire life to get a hot stud muffin peeling his clothes off especially for me, and instead of a Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt look-a-like, Gladys picks a guy who could double for Drew Carey. What the fuck kind of a bachelorette party is this, anyway?"

"I knew it was Gladys," I snorted, rising unsteadily to my feet and grabbing my bag, "Bitch! She probably spent our money in Atlantic City and asked one of her loser cousins to fill in tonight. Probably told him he was a sure thing to get laid."

"Not even if I'd had a dozen of these. I'm horny, but I'm not desperate," Tina waved her martini glass at me, wiggling her eyebrows like Groucho Marx. We all broke out laughing. "Go, go, get your refill and get back before he takes anything else off."

"Threaten me with that visual, sister, and I'll stay gone," I warned, giving her a quick wink, "Expect me when you see me. I'm strongly considering calling it an early night."

"Not fair," came a chorus of replies, "If we have to suffer, you do too."

"We'll see about that," I laughed, "I feel a headache coming on." I headed out the door and ambled towards the hotel's bar. I really really didn't want to go back inside to the party; I just wasn't in the mood any longer. I checked my watch, debating a trip upstairs to my room for the night. The wedding was tomorrow afternoon, so we'd booked a block of rooms in the hotel for a long weekend. After this bust of a party, I was looking forward to a long relaxing soak in the tub and a good Pay Per View movie. With Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt-or hell, anyone but Drew Carey. EEEEUUU. My poor eyes.

Still undecided on whether to stay or go, I parked myself on a stool and waited to catch the busy bartender's attention. I didn't have to wait long: I was wearing a tight red dress that showed my figure off to perfection and revealed long tanned legs that were drawing very appreciative stares from several of the men in the vicinity. I ignored them; hell, they were probably married and-like Dickie had been during our brief marriage-just out looking for a booty call. Creeps!

"What can I get you, pretty lady?" the bartender gave me the once-over. He wasn't bad looking, but he wasn't my type so I didn't give him more than a polite smile.

"Chocolate martini, please."

"You got it," he grinned, and set to work efficiently making my current favorite drink. I couldn't hold my liquor worth a damn, and this was my third-or was it my fourth?-of the night. At this rate I would be lucky not to be so hung over for the wedding that I'd have a hard time hauling my ass out of bed in the morning. Whatever.

I gave a long sigh and considered my now empty ring finger. It didn't seem that long ago since I myself had been a bride-to-be happily anticipating spending the rest of my life as Mrs. Richard Orr, making my mother euphoric at the thought that I'd landed a good catch and would soon start churning out her long-desired grandchildren. Not that I'd ever really considered myself mother material, mind you. It was just what was expected in the Burg; all my friends had been settling down at that age, as well. It just had never occurred to me not to do the same. And look how well that turned out, I reminded myself.

What a prime A fool I'd been to trust the bastard. The ink hadn't dried on our marriage license before I caught him cheating-in our own house yet! Well, at least I hadn't gone quietly. Nope. I was single handedly responsible for making Dickie Orr persona non grata at his stuffy law firm and sinking every opportunity he'd ever have of stepping up the ladder in future-as well as torching his planned foray into the political arena. The Burg grapevine had been focused on us for months, and by the time I'd finished with The Dick, he'd been damned lucky to keep his current job. Son of a bitch. God, I hated Dickie Orr with a passion that knew no bounds. And the sex hadn't even been that good. What a gyp!

"Men totally suck. Here's to nothing," I muttered quietly, pushing a few bills over the counter and hoisting my glass in a private toast. I tossed back the drink in a few quick gulps, and quickly spun out of my chair headed for the elevator. I'd finally decided-I was definitely making a break for it!

Instead I crashed into a solid wall of muscle and found myself up close and personal staring at the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen in my life. Holy Moly Mother of God! What a hunk! Why the hell wasn't he stripping for me?

His dark chocolate eyes sparkled wickedly and he gave me a wolf grin. "You never asked me to, Babe. But we can talk about it upstairs if you'd like."

Oh crap. I'd said it out loud! Me and my big mouth!

Damned chocolate martinis!


I bit my lip to prevent any further mortifying remarks from escaping while I did my best to surreptitiously check out what had to be the hottest man on the planet. Obviously of Latino heritage, he stood about 6', with a well-muscled body so perfect it demanded to be bronzed and installed in an art museum for world-wide appreciation and adoration. There was not an ounce of fat on him, and his perfect mocha latte colored skin was set off by silky hair so dark brown it almost looked black. Collar-length, it curled carelessly around his ears, and I had to physically restrain myself from reaching out to brush one particularly unruly lock of it off his face so that I could more fully appreciate the rich chocolaty hue of his mesmerizingly intense eyes.

He was dressed entirely in black: tight fitting black jeans, black boots and a form-fitting black silk shirt open just enough to display a patch of obscenely beautiful skin at the base of his throat, just begging to be devoured by a lucky pair of lips. Hopefully mine. Hopefully soon.

He wore no jewelry, other than a gold watch with a simple black leather strap on his left wrist. I noted his long fingers and damned near swooned at how sinfully gorgeous his hands were. I desperately wanted those hands roaming every inch of my hungry body, and I wanted his temptingly sensual mouth there too. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to launch myself at him to find out.

What almost did me in on the spot was the very prominent bulge in those jeans that showed me that the muscles he sported all over his body were perfectly in proportion with what my grandmother so euphemistically called his "package". God, did I want to unwrap that package for my birthday next week! I imagined that particular part of his body dressed in black satin, undulating in a g-string, and damn near moaned in orgasmic bliss at the picture it made in my lascivious little mind. Holy crap, I was in full hormonal meltdown here!

By the time I'd let my eyes take a long and careful walk over the prime male real estate standing in front of me, I'd completely ruined my panties and my body temperature had soared to 102 degrees just anticipating what that hard muscled body could do to me between the sheets. If I weren't totally off men for good, that is. Which I was. I think. Maybe. OK, so I was having second thoughts about my vow of lifelong celibacy right about now. I still didn't want a relationship, just an orgasm. Or two or three. I was, after all, entitled-especially after all the shit The Dickster had put me through these past few months.

"See something you like, Babe?" he drawled calmly.

I struggled mightily to pop my lust-glazed eyes back into my head and tried my damnedest to get my rampaging hormones under some semblance of control. I hoped I wasn't drooling too badly; but considering that I hadn't been laid in months and this guy looked like he could give me an orgasm by just touching me….well, let's just say that I wasn't at my confident best trying to pull off the blasé attitude I'd decided to adopt.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm certainly not the least bit interested in looking at you," I gave him my best Burg girl death glare, and almost melted at the heat his eyes tossed back my way.

He'd been doing some extensive assessing himself, and I could tell from the predatory look on his face that he liked what he saw. I was looking pretty damned good tonight, and I knew it. So did he. The only question was, what the hell were we both going to do about it?

"Is that really the story you're gonna go with, Babe? Or would you care to try again more honestly this time?" His voice was smoky with pure sex; no matter what the hell he'd looked like, he could have had an extremely lucrative career as a phone sex operator.

Damn. How one man had managed to corner the market on sex so completely I had no clue, but he certainly had. And right about now I was thinking of doing some serious shopping in that market. After all, we were in Newark, right? And I lived in Chambersburg, over an hour's commute away. There was no way in hell my mother or anyone she knew in the Burg would find out if I was being naughty tonight or not. None of my co-workers were here at the moment; they were all trapped in the back room with Drew Carey's clone clumsily gyrating his chubby pelvis in front of their horrified faces. So who was to know what I was doing? Or who was doing me, for that matter. Carpe diem. Seize the day, right? Sounded real good to me, that's for damned sure.

I think that's about when the three or four chocolate martinis I'd consumed suddenly kicked in and pushed me over the top and into true Slutdom. That's my story and I'm sticking with it. Otherwise there was no way in hell that I, Stephanie Plum, daughter of Ellen and Frank Plum and sister to Saint Valerie the Perfect, would have opened my mouth and uttered the fateful words that came out next. Well, okay, so just maybe Grandma Mazur's influence came into play too. I was working with a very scary gene pool, after all.

"I'm just looking for hot sex," I blurted, now looking guiltily over my shoulder lest anyone I knew emerge from the bachelorette party to drag me back to the festivities before I got my long-overdue and now almost-guaranteed orgasm.

Shit, please tell me I did not just say that out loud!

There was a long moment of silence while I waited for the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I felt myself turning lobster red and debated making a quick run for the elevator before my humiliation was well and truly complete.

"Just how hot are we talking here?" the man in black asked, one eyebrow lifting interestedly.

"Ummmm…really really hot?" I admitted, my eyes now oh-so-carefully examining the fire engine red Jimmy Choo knock-off FMPs I'd scored last week at Macy's big Fall sale.

"Okay." There was a hint of amusement in his voice that I wasn't comfortable examining too closely.

"Okay?" I squeaked, swallowing nervously, my eyes still riveted to my feet.

"That works for me, Babe." His voice was just a touch huskier now.

"It does?" God, I sounded like a complete dork now! Way to go, Steph.

"Ask and ye shall receive."

I didn't have to look up at his face to know that I was the recipient of another full-on wolf grin.

Oh boy!

How in the living hell do I get myself into these situations, anyway?

And now what?


Carlos' POV

She was the last thing I expected tonight, a total and complete surprise-and I make it my business never to be surprised. In my life surprises can be deadly, so I'm extremely aware of my surroundings at all times. I'd seen the gorgeous brunette in red with the killer body and the unruly mane of curly hair emerge once before from the hotel's back room where private parties are held. I'd watched her and her red-headed girlfriend make their way over to the bar for a drink, laughing merrily, oblivious to the crowd of men watching them both with hungry eyes. The red-head was pretty, but the brunette-God, she was a total knock-out! The kind of woman you can't take your eyes off because she has so much life in her that she just jumps out at you and steals your breath away. I'd been nursing a beer and fantasizing about what I planned to do with her when she re-appeared. I'd had some very detailed and creative XXX rated fantasies in the 30 minutes or so I'd been waiting.

I'm Carlos Mañoso, by the way. It says Ricardo Carlos Mañoso on my driver's license; but I'm 'Superman' to my Army buddies in Special Forces. I grew up in a lower-middleclass Cuban neighborhood of Newark, the middle child of six: one older brother and four sisters. I've spent most of my 27 years getting into one sort of trouble or another. you name it, I've pretty much done it. Finally, after two less than inspiring years at Rutgers Newark I'd finally gotten my shit together and joined the Army, becoming an Army Ranger. That had been the right decision. I'd developed a rigid discipline over mind and body that served me well, helping me to rapidly advance in my career to the point where I was now a Captain in a very elite military force. If I told you exactly what I did for the government, I'd pretty much have to kill you. And that's not an exaggeration. Let's just say that I can watch films about Delta Force and spot the inaccuracies from first-hand experience. Enough said.

Delta Force: the reason I was here tonight, enjoying what was probably my last visit home to see my family-ever-before I shipped out in three days on an overseas mission that had less than a 10% expected survival rate. I'd been deployed to pretty much every trouble spot in the world in my military career. I'd moved from the 75th Army Rangers Battalion, to Special Forces, and finally, to Delta Force. Why do I do it? Good question. I'm an adrenaline junkie, I guess. I'm good at the job; I enjoy it; I feel most alive when I'm facing danger. It's in my blood: I can't imagine doing anything else. I'm definitely not the 9 to 5 type, and I never will be. That's just not in the cards for me: I don't do normal. I'm Superman, remember?

I'd flown into Newark this Friday afternoon from Washington, D.C. and checked into the hotel for the weekend, getting in touch with my parents to set up a visit with the Mañoso clan. My siblings were all married with kids, and the party at my parents' house tomorrow afternoon would be crowded with family and friends. I hadn't seen them in almost 18 months: my last deployment to Iraq had been a long one. I was looking forward to spending time at home, but had chosen to stay in a hotel rather than accept my mother's offer of the guest room. I had important things to do in Newark before I shipped out on Monday. I needed to get my legal affairs in order. I needed to touch base with some Army buddies. And I needed to get laid. Desperately. It had been far too long since I'd enjoyed the delights of a beautiful woman in my bed. I intended to rectify that particular situation tonight.

I'd come down to the hotel bar intending to enjoy a beer or two and find a willing companion for the evening. Truthfully, I've never had to put much effort out to get a woman; I usually just smile and they flock to me in droves. During the half hour or so I'd been sitting here, I'd had half a dozen women openly hitting on me. And while any one of them would have gladly done before, none of them had held any appeal at all once I'd spotted the curly-haired brunette. My body knew what it wanted; and however long it took, I intended to complete my mission. My mission being to take her to bed and give us both a night we'd never forget.

Why the brunette? She had the whole package: her body was to-die-for, molded into a tight red dress that fit like a second skin; with long shapely legs that went on for miles, and saucy little red-tipped toes that peeked out from shoes that made her hot tight little ass move in ways that had my jeans fitting far too tightly for my own comfort. Her face-well, there were no words to do her beauty justice. None. Her lips were sensual and pouty and just begging to be kissed; and those eyes-those big blue eyes were true killers. They were a shade of Caribbean blue that I knew would haunt my dreams from tonight on.

She was sex personified. From looking at her initially, I'd expected that she'd never had difficulty in her life attracting any man she'd ever wanted. I'd been more than willing to work for her company tonight: I'd spent my time checking out that back room to determine if she'd come with a date, and planning how best to part her from him. I'd been delighted to discover she was with female friends, with no men in sight; and amused to see the idiot stripping so damned badly. There was no chance in hell he was going to get lucky with her tonight. So I went back to the bar, ordered another beer and I watched and waited for my chance to part her from her herd of companions and haul her upstairs to my room for a night of hot and heavy sex.

It had taken me less than a minute to make my move once she'd finally re-emerged for another drink. I could tell she was ready to bolt any second; so I'd quickly maneuvered my way behind her in order to block her path of escape. She'd tossed back her martini like it had been water, and seconds later she was right where I wanted her. Well…almost where I wanted her: flat on her back underneath me would come later. Right now, she was mere inches away closely examining me, and definitely admiring the view. So was I, she was even more beautiful up close than she'd appeared from the other end of the bar. So far, things had been moving according to my plan.

Then came the surprise. The gorgeous vision in red now stood before me, those big impossibly blue eyes seemingly riveted to the floor in mortification and a flush suffusing her face-what little I could still see of it, that is.

"I'm just looking for hot sex," she'd blurted. Then those innocent blue eyes had widened in stunned horror at her own honesty. She'd given a quick look over her shoulder-I imagine checking to see if her friends had followed her out and heard her outrageous admission-then she'd turned bright red in embarrassment.

It was the blushing that completely did me in. God, she was so damned irresistible, I wanted to scoop her up right then and there and spend the rest of the evening satisfying her every desire.

"Just how hot are we talking here?" I'd teased wickedly, my smile broadening.

"Ummmm…really really hot?" She still wasn't able to meet my eyes.

I wondered for the first time just how sexually experienced she really was. Not very, I was surprisingly pleased to realize. "Okay."

"Okay?" It was more like a bleat; she was clearly nervous and no doubt wondering how the hell she'd gotten herself into this whole thing. And frantically trying to figure out what to do next.

She might have been dressed like a femme fatale, but this woman was as girl next door as they came. Very innocent. Breathtakingly sexy. God, I wanted her and I wanted her badly!

"That works for me, Babe." I had every intention of giving her the hottest sex of her life. Neither one of us was looking to start a relationship; that much was clear. But we certainly had a like purpose in mind for the evening.

"It does?" She was so out of her depth now; and we both knew it.

"Ask and ye shall receive." And receive and receive and receive. All night long, in fact.

She stayed silent and motionless, still examining the floor intently. I gently touched her chin, bringing her face up so that our eyes could meet. We stood frozen in a tableau for a few minutes, our eyes locked in a private conversation. They say the eyes are the window to the soul; hers were pure and shining; mine were less than. But she didn't pull away, so we both drank in our fill.

I could feel her trembling, and her expressive eyes darkened in arousal. I felt a surprising need to reassure her. She brought out a protectiveness in me that I hadn't expected. I didn't want to examine it too closely, either. But it was there and it was growing stronger the more time I spent in her company. "Don't worry." I wanted her to know she was safe with me. I wasn't going to do anything she didn't want; I wasn't going to hurt her. I wasn't going to treat her like a slut. I knew damned well what a treasure she was and I intended to treat her that way. God, I was falling hard and I'd just met her. Watch it, Superman, you're shipping out Monday!

"I'm not. Worried, I mean. I'm fine." Her voice was so soft I had to strain to hear it.

"We're going to do this, Babe," I ran my finger over her bottom lip and her tongue peeked out to meet it, "and it's going to be good. I promise you that."

"Omigod. Omigod. Omigod." She closed her eyes, but made no effort to pull away. I continued to trace her perfect lips with my thumb, memorizing her mouth and enjoying the feel of her skin in my hand. She moaned softly.

"Do you want to call your friends and tell them you're leaving with me?" Not that I really wanted her to, lest they try to convince her to stay. But I guessed it was best-after all, I certainly didn't need people searching the hotel thinking she'd been a victim of foul play.

"I guess I should, huh?" she seemed almost hypnotized by my touch.

"Whatever you want, Babe." Anything and everything.

"I think I already told you what I want," her eyes opened finally, and there was a wicked twinkle in them that told me she had definitely decided to take what she wanted tonight. Happily, that was me-and I was ready, willing and able to be taken.

"You certainly did-and I promised to deliver. And I always keep my word. Especially to beautiful brunettes with big blue eyes."

"That's good to know. I'll call them from my room. Let's get the hell out of here before I melt into a puddle on the floor."

I gave her a big smile, and offered my arm, "Lead on. Wither thou goest, and all that…"

"I can't believe I'm doing this." She seemed to be talking to herself more than to me.

"Having second thoughts, Babe?" We were heading into the hotel lobby now, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. So much for being aware of my surroundings: I had it bad.

"No. I'm just….." she bit her lip and risked another look at me, "I'm not usually this…um….forward. Slutty. Holy shit! I just picked up a hot guy from the bar for a one night stand! My mother would absolutely kill me if she ever found out."

"I'm not going to tell your mom," I promised her, wondering if she was even aware she was speaking out loud. "We don't have to do this if you're having second thoughts, Babe."

"I'm not having second thoughts," she assured me, "I'm just processing my first thoughts kinda slowly. God! I'm really screwing this up, aren't I? You think I'm a real dork. Go ahead, you can admit it. I'm a complete failure at this whole Sex In the City slut thing."

I actually was finding her enchanting, but I didn't think she'd believe me. I settled for, "You're doing just fine; you worry too much."

We were just passing the hotel gift shop, and I indicated to her that I needed to make a quick stop. She looked at me quizzically.

"I need to get something for tonight," I guided her inside and headed for the counter.

"Candy bars?" She sounded hopeful. "That sounds like a good idea. I could use a few."

"Actually, I was planning on picking up a box of condoms-but if you want candy, Babe, just pick out what you want."

"Shit! I'm a such a loser!" she groaned in mortification. "DUH! Of course you weren't stopping for candy!"

Impulsively, I gave her a quick and affectionate kiss and she blinked in surprise. "What kind do you want, Babe? Pick out anything you want, as much as you want."

"You mean it?" She bit her lip, and I saw her eyes surveying the selection with interest.

"Sure. I gotta keep your strength up for the marathon tonight, right?"

She blushed again, no doubt thinking about my 'marathon' comment. "I'll be fine."

"Actually, I'll take you out to dinner if you're hungry," I offered, surprising myself as well as her. "Candy bars are empty calories." I checked my watch, "You want to go somewhere and get something to eat first?"

"Really? You mean it?" She hurriedly pushed two Snickers bars on the counter and the clerk rang up the total. "Oh God!"

I looked over and found her staring at the counter in a kind of daze. "Now what's the problem, Babe?"

"Magnum XXL?" she squeaked, pointing at the blue box of condoms incredulously.

I gave her a wolf grin, teasing, "I had to settle for these: they're all out of XXXL."

She widened her very expressive eyes, saying nothing. Then she let her eyes travel down to my crotch, apparently trying her best to figure out just how big XXXL might cover.

"You okay there, Babe? You're kinda quiet all of a sudden."

"Oh boy!" She was bright red again. But definitely smiling happily in anticipation.

I just laughed, and gave her another quick kiss. She was too much! And for tonight, at least, she was all mine! I'd never felt luckier.


Stephanie's POV

"So where are we heading now, Babe?" the hottest, sexiest man on the planet asked me as we ambled out of the gift shop and back into the lobby, his arm closed protectively around me.

I was still distracted, desperately trying to imagine how I was gonna fit an XXXL cock where it needed to be to make both of us happy-but hey, I was more than game to try! After all, it's not often a girl gets an opportunity like that, right? Not this girl, anyway: the Dickster wasn't terribly well-endowed, which I suspect was why he needed to prove his masculinity by boinking every female in his vicinity. And the few other men I'd been with before marriage to the horse's ass certainly hadn't needed extra-sized anything. Which was why the Drew Carey clone had been such a damned disappointment tonight; if I wasn't gonna get it, at least I wanted to be able to look at it. Only fair, I thought. Except that tonight-hot damn!-it sure looked like Stephanie Plum-no-longer-Orr was gonna get it! Omigod, was I ever! The Doomsday Orgasm I'd dreamed about for years was now well within my grasp! I wondered if I would spontaneously combust upon actual penetration?

"Earth to Babe," he repeated, his hand slowly stroking my forearm and causing my body to do a little happy dance. "You still with me, tiger?"

"I'm just trying to-" I admitted, biting my lip before I made a bigger fool out of myself. I could feel that stupid ear to ear grin splitting my face. "Trying to-you know-"

"I figured that out already," he laughed, "You have a very expressive face, Babe. Gorgeous, too. And don't waste another minute worrying about it. I guarantee you it'll fit just perfectly. Especially since I've got some plans of my own where you're concerned. Been making them non-stop since I first laid eyes on you."

"Plans? Omigod! What kind of plans?" Glub.

"You'd be surprised. I'm a very creative guy. And you inspire me."

"I don't do butt stuff," I blurted, as his hand slid down to cup my ass. "Not happening!"

That earned a full on wolf grin. "No butt stuff required, Babe. But you're okay with the handcuffs thing, right?"

I froze in position, my poor overloaded brain shorting out at the picture of me in handcuffs while he….did things to me. Very hot, very steamy, very intense and majorly pleasurable things that would no doubt cause me to go straight to Hell and burn for eternity. Still, it would probably be worth it-we're talking XXXL, after all! Omigod. Wait! Maybe it wasn't me he meant? Maybe he was gonna be the one in handcuffs? That turned me on even more! I could have him spread-eagled and at my mercy while I mounted him and used my tongue and my hands to…..Damn! I was going straight to Hell, all right. I was such a slut! And even worse, I was a messy one: I actually felt the drool pooling at the corner of my mouth. And I knew damned well I'd completely and totally ruined my panties this time.

"I was only kidding about the handcuffs, Babe. Don't have any with me."

"I knew that." I tried my damnedest to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

"I have a tie, though. And I'm willing to rip my shirt into strips, if you're interested."

I gave him my Burg girl death glare. "That's so not funny."

"That wasn't a joke, Babe."

Oh boy!

We started walking again, heading towards the elevator, in silence this time. We both had other things on our minds: XXX rated things.

"Just how creative are those plans, anyway?" I asked, finally.

"Pretty damned creative," he admitted quietly. "Am I scaring you off?"

"No. Were you trying to?"

"No. Are you going to tell me your name, Babe?"

"Does it matter? Honestly? It's just sex, right? Neither one of us is looking to get involved in a relationship. It's just a one night stand. So, that said, does it really matter what my name is?"

"To me, it does. Look, I'm just going to say this now and you can take it however you want to. I've done this kind of thing before, more than once. I'm in town just for the weekend, then I'm gone forever. No staying in touch, no chance of a happily ever after. That's not in the cards. I came down to the bar looking for the kind of a woman who knew exactly what she was getting into. And instead I found you, Babe."

"And what? You think I don't know what I'm getting into tonight?" I was trying to figure out how the playful dynamic between us had shifted so suddenly. Was he telling me he wasn't interested in me anymore? Letting me down easy? Or just trying his best to be honest and warning me not to expect anything more from him than one night of hot sex? I honestly wasn't sure.

There was a long pause while he carefully considered my question. "I think you're the kind of woman I could fall head over heels for if I were at another time and place in my life. I think you're sexy and cute and innocent and endearing and playful, and any man in his right mind would grab you and never let you go for the rest of his life. But I can't do that, Babe. For a lot of reasons. And I'm very willing to admit that you deserve far more than I can give you. So I'm just going to give you the truth and let you make up your own mind what to do with it: do you want to be with me tonight, given how things are? Or would you rather walk away right now before you do something you'll regret in the morning? It's your choice, Babe. But make it now. Because I'm an opportunist at heart, and I don't know how much longer I can be noble about this."

I looked into his dark chocolate colored eyes and saw everything I needed to see. "I haven't done this kind of thing before and I don't know what the rules are. But I can guess. So let me be as honest with you as you just were with me. I'm just coming out of a really lousy marriage with a guy who treated me like shit. I'm not exactly at a place in my life where I want to take a chance with another guy and find out that he's gonna start cheating on me too. I'm not certain I even believe in happily ever after-not anymore. I'm not looking to be your girlfriend. Yours or anyone else's, for that matter. But I am looking to share a bed with you for the night-if we can agree to keep being honest with each other. Keep it real between us. You don't lie to me and I won't lie to you. No promises of happily ever after that neither one of us plans to keep. We'll spend a really fantastic night and then say goodbye and good luck and never look back. No one will ever know about it but us. It'll be like this never happened."

"Can you do that, Babe?" He wrapped his arms around me, his hand stroking my back as we finished our unusual negotiations.

"I can. I want to." And I did.

"That's not the liquor talking, is it? I need to be sure."

"Excuse me?" That question had come out of left field.

"You tossed back that martini pretty quickly. And it wasn't your first. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"You aren't. Ever think that maybe it's me taking advantage of you?" I pointed out, "After all, I don't know the first thing about you, even your name. And I don't care. I'm only here for what you've got in that bag."

That got the wolf grin back, "The candy bars, you mean?"

"Fuck the candy bars!" I laughed, "You know damned well what I mean."

"You don't want to know my name then?" He didn't sound convinced.

"No-not especially," I insisted. Damn, the more I talked to the man, the more I found myself attracted to him. The more I wanted more than one night with him. But one night was all he was offering and one night was what I planned to savor. Especially because of his honesty. I wasn't expecting that, not after all the shit I'd been through with Dickie Orr. I'd been ready to give up on men for good, write them all off as pond scum…then this guy came along. And I was realizing that he might have the total package: looks, sex appeal, humor, charm and integrity. I actually liked the guy a lot and not just because he was totally and devastatingly gorgeous. That made me feel better about my Slutdom; at least I had high standards. Hell, forget the XXXL; he'd have gotten lucky tonight if he'd been just XL!

"What if I told you I really wanted you to know it?"

"Why is that, pray tell?"

"Because when I make you come screaming, I want to hear my name on your lips."

Wow, that came out of the blue! I felt a rush down south and grinned in anticipation. "Well, if you put it that way, I guess I ought to know who I'll be thanking, right? So? What is it?"

"Yours first, Babe."


"No way in hell am I sleeping with a Stevie."

"You have problems with that?"

"It's a guy thing."

"So call me Babe instead." I actually had gotten a nice squishy feeling in my nether regions at the nickname. On his lips it sounded special.

"What's your real name?"

"None of your business," I teased, "Come on, let's get where we're going, Mr. No Name. The longer we stand here in the lobby the more time my friends have to find me and drag me back into the party from Hell."

"These friends of yours-they actually call you Stevie?"

"Yep, they do. Have for years."

"What about your ex, the slimeball? What's he call you?"

"He doesn't call me anything; not since I kicked his ass to the curb publicly and taught him not to mess with me anymore. A lesson you should learn, Hot Stuff. So go ahead and spill it-I'm listening. What do your friends call you?"


"I'll just bet they do." I snorted. "In your dreams."

"It's true," he insisted, "I promised not to lie to you, remember? It's my nickname. Really. Like Stevie is yours. You give me your real name, I'll give you mine."

"More negotiations, huh? We'll see. Superman? OK, well that bodes well for the evening-that and the size of what you've got in the bag."

"You didn't answer me before. You hungry? I'll take you to dinner, Stevie. God, I can't bring myself to do it. I just can't, Babe."

"Take me to dinner, you mean?"

"Call you Stevie. The only Stevie I know is 275 lbs, bald and belches non-stop. I can't do this unless I have another name for you."

"Why not? You having some equipment problems there, Superman?" I chortled.

"That'll never happen. But I warn you: I have my ways of making you talk," he teased, leaning in to drop hot hungry kisses down my throat.

"Keep it up, that actually might work." Oh, yeah, it sure would!

"Before long, I'm gonna get your name, rank and serial number out of you, I guarantee it. Just wait and see."

"And here I was kind of hoping you were trying to get something else out of me…"

"That too," he laughed, pulling me closer and really turning on the charm. Hell, I was ready to combust right there in the lobby if he didn't stop with the kisses and the roaming hands. "So, answer the question. Are you hungry? Do you feel like eating something before we go upstairs?"

"What if I said yes?" Which I absolutely hated to admit. What I really wanted to do was to go upstairs and have non-stop orgasms all night long. But since Gladys had ripped our money off for the bachelorette party and the promised hot buffet had been instead nothing more substantial than finger food, I was actually more than a bit hungry. OK, so by now I was kinda starving.

"Then I'll take you out and feed you, Babe. Anyplace in particular you have in mind? Italian? Seafood? Chinese? I know a great little Cuban place-"

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of McDonald's."

"That stuff will kill ya, Babe."

"It's quick, though. We can drive thru and grab a couple of burgers and some fries. Then get back upstairs and burn off the calories before they have the chance to do any major damage. Sound good to you?"

"Sounds better and better now that I think about it," he admitted. "They have salads."

"Or else we could just call room service," I suggested hopefully. That idea was sounding pretty good to me, too. No need to go out at all; we could go upstairs to my room and start fooling around right now. Then we could eat fast and get completely naked and sweaty for the rest of the night. I'd get my orgasms much quicker that way. And I really really needed that first orgasm just as fast as I could get it. McDonald's could wait. I had my priorities straight!

"Room service is good. And while we're waiting for them to bring up our food, we can spend our time eating something else."

"I'm not sharing my candy bars," I warned him.

"That wasn't what I was planning on eating, Babe."

Omigod. I think I lost consciousness for a brief minute.

"You all right there, tiger?"

"Room 407, Superman. And step on it."

There was a Doomsday Orgasm with my name on it-Babe or Stevie, it didn't matter which-and it was just waiting for me. And I intended to get it while the getting was good!


We traded a few very enjoyable kisses in the elevator, but unfortunately things didn't get anywhere near as heated as I'd hoped. Why? The freakin elevator stopped on every floor while a seemingly endless parade of hotel guests trundled on and off with annoying frequency. I was beyond frustrated, but the only positive thing was that I could see that the man in black was even more perturbed than I was. This also boded well for the rapid delivery of my orgasm; neither one of us was very interested in long foreplay right about now.

My phone rang insistently just outside the door to my room. I fumbled with the clasp of my red satin bag and hauled my cell out, sighing deeply as I checked the caller ID. This next bit was going to be very tricky. Tina was a real pit bull, and unfortunately she could spot my fibs from 20 paces away without even breaking a sweat.

"Hey, girl! Where the hell are you, anyway?" Her voice was loud and shrill enough to make my head hurt. "I went out to the bar to find your ass and you'd totally disappeared. Did you go to Russia for the vodka or what?"

"Sorry! Spur of the moment decision. I just decided to call it a night. I'm heading to bed early." Damn straight I was-with a very delicious and delectable man in tow!

"Not fair, Babycakes! Get your little ass back in here, and fast! We're all stuck here at this disaster of a party," came her prompt response, "that means you gotta come suffer too. That's what friends do for other friends."

"Not this friend. Not tonight, anyway. I've suffered more than enough, thank you very much," I shook my head, rolling my eyes, as Superman took my key card from my outstretched bag and opened the door while I launched into my desperate little fib. "Besides, I suddenly came down with an awful headache, thanks to those damned martinis, and now I'm afraid I'm gonna be sick. Could be a migraine, now that I think about it. I really gotta hang up now and go lie down."

"Bullshit! Not buying that story for a minute, Stevie!"

"Really, honestly! I'm not lying about it," I insisted, which was a pretty clear indication to her that I was doing exactly that.

"Of course you're lying, and we both know it," came the derisive snort, "Now either you get your ass back down here and keep me company, or else I come upstairs and beat your door down and drag you back down. Which would you prefer?"

"Don't do this to me, Tina," I pleaded, "Please! I'm begging you; I need privacy tonight. I'm desperate!"

"Wait just one hot little moment here. OK, OK, it's all becoming very clear to me now. My Momma didn't birth no fool. Who is he? And don't say 'who is who?' because then for sure I'm going to head upstairs and find out for myself. You hooked yourself a live one in the bar, didn't you?"

I looked over at The Live One, who was leaning against the door, arms folded, looking hotter than any one man should be allowed to in this lifetime. Damn! I wanted to be wrapped in his arms, not wrapped up in an endless phone conversation that was depriving me of my inalienable right to a desperately-needed and long-deserved orgasm. So I groaned, swore under my breath in exasperation, and folded like a cheap paper lantern in an Indian monsoon. "Yeah, I did-I confess. I grabbed me a real hot prospect; you caught me, all right? We're getting ready to fuck like bunny rabbits all night long. You happy, Tina? Now I need my privacy for the rest of the evening, OK? I'm not answering my phone. In fact, I'm turning it off right now, you hear me? I'm not opening up my door, either. And if I see your noisy little face lurking around in the corridor trying to get a look at who I'm with, I'll spill to Mrs. Lebowitz that you took a sick day to hit the Macy's pre-Labor Day sale."

"So did you, remember? We went together, damn it! That's so not fair!"

"Yeah, but I already got busted for it; you're still in the clear. For now, that is. Of course, that could change rapidly, depending on how you want to play this whole thing out tonight."

"Bitch!" she laughed, "Shit, girlfriend, he must be really smoking hot if you're that damned desperate to get laid! I thought you swore off men for good after Dick The Prick?"

"So I changed my mind. It happens, OK? Now drop it, will you please?"

"Drop it? Like hell I will! I want details. What's he look like? Is he naked yet? Are you naked yet? Come on, spill it! Inquiring minds want to know! On a scale of 1 to 10, how good is the sex? Has he gone down on you yet? How many inches are we talking about? And how thick is he where it counts?"

Superman was openly smirking by now, having moved behind me to cop a feel. No doubt, he was definitely hearing and enjoying the entire conversation. In that, at least, he was a typical man. He brushed my explosion of curls off my neck and did something extremely creative with his tongue in my ear. I damned near dropped the phone as a result, and I couldn't even disguise the long moan of desire that escaped. His hands moved slowly down my body, cupping my breasts and kneading them expertly, causing my long ignored nipples to stand up and salute proudly. Then his hands slid over my quivering tummy and moved to points south, finally landing on my bare thighs. Then those oh-so-talented hands started stroking me, moving inwards and upwards marching relentlessly towards the Promised Land. I let out a loud wail of pleasure and arched back into his muscular chest as his hands continued to work their magic. Now this was Heaven, for sure!

I forgot all about Tina and the phone: frankly, it was all I could do to stay upright. Damn, that man knew exactly what he was doing, and I could feel my body getting ready to sing the warm-up to the Hallelujah Chorus! I could feel his huge XXXL cock pressing on the crack of my ass, and I rubbed myself against him like a kitten in heat, winning a long husky stream of Spanish into my ear. Not that I understood a freakin' word of it, mind you. But it mattered not a bit to me. He could have been reciting the room service menu and I'd still have been burning up listening to it.

"Omigod! Are you doing it now?" Tina bellowed in my ear. "Holy shit, are you actually on the phone while you're getting fucked? Stella! Ruby! Stevie's having sex while I'm talking to her on the phone! I swear to God! Come listen! She picked up some hot guy in the bar and dragged his fine ass upstairs! They're fucking right now! Do you believe it? Omigod! Omigod!"

I could hear a group of my friends babbling excitedly in reply and felt the chest behind me shaking with silent laughter. I looked over my shoulders at The Live One, who was openly grinning in amusement. "No one's gonna know about this but us, huh, Babe? This never happened, right?"

"Shit! You know what they say about the best laid plans," I groaned unhappily, shutting off the phone and tossing it carelessly onto the chair which already held my bag. "I guess we could always head to your room and hide."

"I don't know about you, Babe, but I know for damned sure that I can't wait that long. I'm on the 8th floor and that damned elevator takes forever. If we really have to worry about your nosy friends breaking in and interrupting us, then I vote we just push the desk across the door and stay here."

"Works for me," I was more than tired of wasting time worrying about Tina and my nosy-ass girlfriends. I wanted my damned orgasm! Impatiently, I placed my hands on top of his and guided them exactly where I wanted them to go. "Omigod, right there! Right there! Right there!" He was firmly on Ground Zero now and I was rapidly approaching total nuclear meltdown. "Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh, fuck, that's soooooo good!"

"You like that, Babe?" He nibbled at my earlobe, his hands pulling my dress up to my waist. "I know what else you're gonna like."

"Uh huh. Me too. Give it to me," I pleaded, my body aching with need. I'd never wanted anything more and that was no lie.

"I'm going to give you everything you ever wanted, I promise. But first, tell me your real name."

"Bastard," I groaned, "I said no. That's not fair."

"I told you, I have my ways of making you talk, Babe. You want it, you can have it all. If you talk. But only if you talk. Otherwise-" His hands slowed.

"No, no, no, no, no! Don't stop, please don't stop. I need this, damn it. I need-"

"How long has it been, Babe? Tell me how long."

"Too long. Forever. What does it matter anyway?"

"Tell me what I want to know."

"What are you asking me? How long since I've been with a man? How long since I've had an orgasm? How long I've wanted to feel just exactly like this-the way you make me feel when you touch me like that? What do you want me to tell you?"

"Tell me all of it," he whispered, as his hands stroked my red silk Victoria's Secret panties in exactly the right spot. "I want to know everything about you, Babe. Everything. Dios! You're dripping wet for me, Babe."

"I've been wet since the minute I saw you," I whimpered, my body ready to confess all its secrets if only his hands would keep working their magic on me.

"Tell me your real name."

"Stephanie. It's Stephanie, all right?"

"Estefanía. So beautiful, so perfect, so absolutely magnificent, my sweet sweet Stephanie." He ripped my panties off with one quick yank and suddenly plunged three fingers deep into my wet hot pussy. His thumb continued to tease my clit mercilessly as his long clever fingers curved inside me and began moving in a slow rhythm that had me moaning in delight. "Now answer the other questions."

"I can't remember them." And I honestly couldn't. I couldn't focus on a damned thing other than the feeling of his magic fingers in me and the knowledge that very soon I'd have his thick hard cock inside me, driving me slowly insane. I could feel him hard and throbbing behind me and I was pretty sure that he wasn't going to last much longer either.

"Fuck me," I begged. "I want your cock deep inside me. Right now."

"Not yet," he began stroking me faster, "You're not ready for me inside you just yet, Stephanie. But you will be soon. Then it's going to be so good. I swear to God, Babe, it will be everything you've hoped for and more."

"I'm ready for you right now," I insisted, "You want me, you know you do. I can feel you! Fuck me now! Hard and fast and deep. Make me scream."

"First with my fingers, then with my mouth, and then finally with my cock. We have all night, Babe. Don't rush any of it. We're going to do it all. We have nothing but time."

"Oh, Christ," I whimpered, the unbelievable ache growing stronger inside me, "I need-"

"You're fighting it, Babe; I know it. I can feel it. Let go, Stephanie! Just lean back and relax and just let go. Trust me, Babe. Let me take you where you want to be."

I felt the fire burning out of control deep inside my belly. Finally, unable to resist any longer, I gave in to it completely as his fingers pumped rapidly inside me, bringing me to a fever pitch of quivering aching hot raw desire. Suddenly, without warning, I exploded, my body shattering into a million pieces, as one strong arm held me around my waist keeping me upright while his fingers sent me spinning into an orgasm so intense that I found myself sobbing uncontrollably.

When I'd finished shaking, he scooped me into his powerful arms and carried me over to the bed, setting me gently on the fluffy down comforter. He lay next to me, carefully molding his body to mine, and dropped soft kisses on my now-dry lips.

I couldn't think of a damned thing to say. I was completely drained and boneless.

"It's been a long time for you, huh?" He stroked my flushed cheeks tenderly.

I nodded once, not trusting my voice. My heart was still beating out of my chest as I struggled to regain my senses.

He looked at me intently, "That bastard hurt you really bad, didn't he, Babe? Robbed you of your self-confidence. Well, he's a damned fool for cheating on you; he didn't deserve you, Stephanie. Remember that. And you're well rid of him."

"I know that. I do. But it still hurts. Not that I still love him, because I don't. If I ever really did in the first place. I think mostly I was in love with the idea of being in love. You know what I mean? I just hate feeling like a fool. Like a loser. Again."

He nodded. "Do you want to talk about it, Babe? I'm a good listener. It might make you feel better."

"Not much to talk about. I haven't had very good luck with men. Ever. Dickie was the latest in a long string of bums that I somehow seem to attract with frightening regularity."

"That's the ass' name? Dickie?" He sounded thoroughly disgusted. "What kind of a grown man calls himself Dickie?"

"Dick the Prick. Dickie Orr. He's a lawyer in Chambersburg. It's a suburb of Trenton. I forgot-you're not from around here, huh?"

"That where you live, Babe? In Chambersburg?"

"Yeah; the Burg, we call it. And my mother was absolutely euphoric when Dickie started showing interest in me. She always wanted me married to a fine upstanding professional man, don't you know? Keeping a neat home. Making meatloaf and pot roast and baking cookies and getting ready to push out 2.5 kids like women in the Burg are supposed to do. And most of all, she wanted me to stop embarrassing her by thinking I'm Wonder Woman."

I sighed, stretching out contentedly, now completely relaxed, thanks to my first orgasm in almost a year. A far more powerful and satisfying one than I'd ever had from The Dickster, either before or after Joyce Barnhardt. And all this, just from three magic fingers and a supremely skilled thumb! Oh, yeah: I, Stephanie Plum, was a very happy woman right about now. And planning on getting even happier once his promised mouth and cock came into play later in the evening…

"So…you're Wonder Woman, Babe?" He raised one brow interestedly and waited for me to expound further.

I looked over at him with a wicked smile, "It's a really long story, Superman. Why don't we order room service first? Then while we wait for it to get here I can demonstrate a few of my special powers to you." I ran my hand over his crotch, and was rewarded with a soft groan of appreciation and a very big wolf grin.


Carlos' POV

"Found it!" Stephanie waved the room service menu aloft in her hand triumphantly. She'd scrambled out of bed moments earlier, giggling as she evaded my lustful grasp, and for the last few minutes I'd watched her frantically toss her room in a desperate search for the menu. She wasn't the neatest guest the hotel had ever seen, I was sure: her clothes were strewn pell-mell across the room as if her luggage had exploded-and that was before she'd started the search. I suspected she'd tried on several dresses before settling on the tight red slinky number that currently hugged her curves so expertly. The missing menu had been finally located on the desk, buried under an avalanche of color: cobalt blue, emerald green, salmon pink and royal purple were the most visible. Apparently they were the runners-up; the red dress had won a hard-earned victory tonight.

Her Caribbean blue eyes were sparkling and her skin still had that luminous 'just fucked' glow to it. Except that my fingers had done that fucking, not my cock. No, that indescribable pleasure still awaited me, and I was going to enjoy every single minute of it, all night long. In fact, I had a strong urge to pick up a second box of condoms. The more I thought about it, the more I was certain that the twelve contained in the newly purchased box just wouldn't be enough. Not for what I had planned for this hot and wickedly sexy beauty!

Yeah, I readily admit, I was hornier than I'd ever been in my life…and that's saying something. And before you say it: maybe you couldn't get it up a dozen times in one night-but trust me, they call me 'Superman' for many reasons! And this Superman hadn't been laid in a very very long time, thanks to Uncle Sam's seemingly endless demands for my services in one war zone or another. My Babe wasn't the only one coming out of a long sexual drought. I was a parched Sahara traveler who'd just stumbled upon an oasis. And like a thirsty camel, I planned to drink my fill tonight.

No, we weren't going to get a damned bit of sleep all night. I was practically salivating at the thought of all the different ways I'd fuck my sweet Stephanie. I wanted her against the wall, on the bed, on the desk, in the shower, on the floor…hell, I just plain wanted her! She wasn't going to be able to walk for at least a week by the time I'd finished with her. And she'd never forget me, no matter how many men were fortunate enough to bed her in future. I planned to ruin her for all other men tonight; to lay claim to her in a way no other man ever had or ever could. I knew damned well I could do it, too. And for the record-it's not bragging if you can back it up. Trust me, I can back it up. I hadn't exaggerated about size of the XXXL package I carried around. And every last inch of it was rock hard and aching for Stephanie's juicy sweetness.

I intended to fuck both of us into exhaustion before the night was over-especially since this was the only night I'd ever have with my beautiful Babe. And the fact that I was very probably going to get myself killed in Iraq very soon-a 10% survival rate didn't bode well for even me-only added to my desire to make this night a truly memorable one. Delta Force. The suicide mission. Monday. Damn it all! Why now? I pushed those dark thoughts out of my mind forcefully, focusing instead on the voluptuous brunette I craved so desperately. I sat up, leaning against the headboard of the king size bed, my arms tucked in back of my head as I watched her hungrily. She was one hell of a beautiful woman. I saw miles and miles of shapely leg and a body that would tempt even a saint. I was no saint.

She was nose deep in the menu, pouring over it intently on the other side of the room and muttering darkly to herself. I smiled in amusement. Now what the hell was she worried about? It could be anything! I strained to hear her as she perched against the desk, nibbling on her bottom lip and shaking her head.

"God, thanks to that money-hungry bitch Gladys, I'm absolutely starving! $75 bucks a head, and we get chips and dip, peanuts, nachos and Goddamn pigs in a blanket. And frickin' Drew Carey in a g-string. I'm gonna kill the thieving bitch and not a court in Jersey will convict me. Hell, I feed Rex better than that. And I don't subject him to ugly ass dancing, either. My poor traumatized eyes."

"Who's Gladys?" From the dangerous look in Stephanie's eye, I would hate to be her.

"Huh? Oh, Gladys! She's the thief I work with who stole our hard-earned money and probably gambled it all away in Atlantic City while we almost starved to death at the bachelorette party from Hell."

"Who's Rex?" She was off men since her cheating ex; did she have a dog?

"My hamster. Nosy, aren't you? Are we playing 20 Questions and nobody warned me?"

I shrugged, "You fascinate me, what can I say?" And she did-completely. I'd never met anyone as effervescent, with a totally natural charm and drop dead effortless sex appeal. She was the real deal, all right.

"I fascinate you?" she scoffed at that.

"You do," I insisted. There was something about her that drew me in, despite the fact that this was just a one night stand that would never be-could never be-anything more. I'd slept with more women than I could count, but I'd never cared enough to ask questions about their lives. Why would I? They didn't matter to me other than for sex. But Stephanie was different in a way I couldn't quite explain: Stephanie mattered. She wasn't buying it, though.

"You're so full of shit, Superman. You just want to fuck me," she smirked, wiggling her hips playfully and teasing me in a sing-song voice. "You really really really want to fuck me."

"That too." I grinned, "But first I want to get you fed so you can have the energy to keep up with me tonight. Speaking of which, are you any closer to making the great decision?"

"I'm definitely going with the Fettuccine Alfredo, but I'm having a major problem with dessert. Do I want Double Divine Chocolate Mousse or Tiramisu? Or should I go with Chocolate Cheesecake with Raspberry Sauce instead? Or stick with the old reliable Hot Fudge Sundae?"

"Does it really matter, Babe?"

"Dessert always matters, Superman."

"OK, so order them all. Decide what you want to have when they get here."

"I could always do that, I guess. After all, I'm living dangerously tonight-being wicked, wanton and completely decadent. Giving myself over completely to the pleasures of the flesh."

"That's the spirit, Babe." I gave her a wolf grin.

"Damn skippy! What about you? What are you going to have?"

"You-if and when you get the damned dinner ordered and get your sweet little ass back to bed."

"I told you I don't do butt stuff."

"I could change your mind, Babe."

"Not with a XXXL cock, you can't."

I laughed. "OK, so no butt stuff. But I have other plans for you, and all of them involve getting you naked and sweaty and putting a big smile on your face. So come back to bed and let me get on with my master plan."

"Master plan? And just what might that be?"

"I plan on ruining you for all other men tonight."

"Oh really? That's very ambitious of you, Superman. Modest, too. But honestly, after watching Drew Carey shaking his limp little wee wee in my face for more minutes than I care to remember, I'm more than willing to be ruined."

"Drew Carey being the pathetic stripper you were so anxious for me to replace?" I grinned, reminding her of her embarrassing blurt to me when we'd first met.

"Hey, if you'd seen him, you'd understand my agony. I was willing to pay him to get dressed. And as I recall, you didn't turn me down. You said we could talk about it if we went upstairs."

"I did." I remembered it well.

"We're upstairs now," she reminded me archly. "You gonna give me a hot show tonight, Superman? Before this promised ruination begins?"

"Oh, you're getting a hot show all right, Wonder Woman. All night long. All your wildest fantasies come true. Guaranteed. I never disappoint gorgeous blue-eyed brunettes. Especially ones with curly hair and killer bodies."

"So I get to watch you strut your stuff? Good. I've got a bunch of dollar bills I was saving up for the occasion. You give me a good enough show, it should just about cover your share of dinner."

"Gonna have to be a very short show, Babe. I don't have much to take off."

"No problem: I can live with you shaking your bon-bon in your boxers for awhile. I'll just tuck the dollar bills into your waistband."

"Not possible, Babe: I'm commando tonight."

There was a long silence. I thought she was going to drop the menu. "You did not just tell me that." Her eyes were huge and her mouth was hanging open, her tongue lolling to one side.


"Omigod. Omigod. Give me a minute. I think I just ruined my panties."

"You're not wearing any panties, Babe. I took care of that already. Then I took care of you."

"So you did, Superman. And very well, I might add," she admitted, flushing very slightly.

"I aim to please. I'm willing to please a lot more. Get over here and I'll show you just how much more."

She grinned happily and ambled towards the bed, neatly evading a pile of lethal looking stilettos in shades that matched the dresses piled high on the desk. She handed me the menu. "What do you feel like eating? What looks good to you?"

"You. To both questions." I pulled her onto the bed and she playfully straddled me, rubbing herself teasingly over my hardened length. Damn, she felt good! I tossed the unwanted menu to the side carelessly and slid my hands down to cup her tight hot ass as she undulated sensuously over my now aching cock. "I don't care about food. Order whatever the hell you want, Babe. Do it fast. I want to fuck you," I growled.

"Oh you do, huh? You want to fuck me? Well, I like the sound of that," she purred. Stephanie's hands began gliding over my chest slowly in a sensual exploration, her fingers flicking my sensitive nipples through the silk of my shirt and sending sparks shooting through my entire body. This woman did things to me that no one else ever had or ever would. "And you know what else? I like the feel of it even more-you're rock hard. You're ready to take me right now, aren't you?"

I couldn't deny that. My hands gripped her ass tighter and I let out a long groan of pleasure. "Babe, you're playing with fire."

"Looking to get burned." Her hands roamed freely over my chest, tracing every inch of my body. She ran her fingers up to the patch of skin just under my collarbone and moaned audibly. "I want to lick every inch of your body. And I want to start right here." Her mouth followed her fingers and seconds later I felt the heat as her tongue swirled lightly on my flesh. I let out a hoarse cry and let my head arch back, exposing more skin to her. She greedily licked like a hungry kitten lapping down a bowl of milk and then she began dropping hot wet kisses on the path her tongue had taken. I was completely lost by then, my breath coming in shallow pants.

My hands caressed her perfectly formed ass as she continued to undulate sensuously over my groin, tormenting me with the promise of total satisfaction. Hell, I'd paid for lap dances that weren't done as expertly as this seduction was. Her mouth shifted direction to follow my throat upwards to my jaw line and over to my ear, where she nibbled on my earlobe and whispered things that I'm pretty sure weren't anatomically possible. But I was damned willing to give them a try, and told her so in no uncertain terms.

She laughed softly, huskily, then followed a course that led her to my mouth, where she really did some serious damage. She began by using one finger to carefully outline my lips as our eyes locked and we silently promised each other total ecstasy. Then she lowered her head and used her tongue to re-trace the path. Her mouth dropped feather soft kisses, then she took her own sweet time sucking on my lips, nibbling on them before finally taking what she wanted. Her tongue plunged into my mouth and in an instant the kiss turned incendiary. She devoured my mouth, her tongue finding mine and dancing with it passionately as her arms wrapped around my neck and she molded her curves tightly to my body.

I hungrily returned kiss for kiss, my hands roaming her body and pulling her closer as the kisses deepened to a white hot intensity. I found the zipper of her dress and used it, to expose a creamy expanse of silken smooth skin on her back. My fingers slid inside the two folds of satin and within seconds I'd unhooked the clasp of her matching bra. I was trying to decide how best to part her from the dress with my tongue still down her throat-especially since she was pressed so tightly to me that you couldn't even slip a piece of paper between us.

That's when we heard it: a very very loud and indelicate grumble that emanated from the empty stomach of the temptress straddling my lap. Talk about mood-killers! We both froze in mid-kiss.

"Babe," I raised my eyebrow questioningly, "What kind of a scary beast you got hiding down there?"

"Damned bitch Gladys," she mumbled. "It's all her fault."


I was a nymphomaniacal slut, no question about it. My mother, God forbid she should ever find out about any of my sinfully outrageous behavior this evening, would totally and completely disown me. I'd never have pineapple upside down cake for the rest of my life. That would hurt: I love my mother's pineapple upside down cake desperately. I love dessert of just about any kind, come to think of it. The more it lacks in nutritional value, the more I crave it. Dessert, after all, is the base of my food pyramid. It's made me everything I am today. God help me.

Oh, yeah, I could hear my mother's horrified voice now: "Rosa Laszlofi's daughter would never pick up a strange man in a bar and immediately go get naked with him. Especially if she didn't know his name or invite him over to the house for dinner first." Never mind that Mara Laszlofi is 38, 210 lbs, and wouldn't know what to do with a man-naked or otherwise-if she fell over him. That's just beside the point. Trust me, there is no arguing with Ellen Plum on matters like this. "A man never buys the cow if he can get the milk for free." Tonight, I planned to give away all the free milk a certain Latino superhero sex god was willing to drink. I was a total and complete slut, all right. But based on that earlier experience where his magic fingers had given me the best orgasm I'd had in ages, at least I was going to be a well-satisfied slut.

I was also famished, and waiting impatiently for the delivery of the room service order I'd placed moments after the noisy beast in my stomach had ruined my daring attempt to grab the bull by the horns (as it were) and land my long-desired Doomsday Orgasm. The fact that said beast continued to growl non-stop now had put a temporary damper on my enthusiasm to launch a second seduction attempt.

Truth to tell, I kinda think Superman himself was glad I had backed off on my sex kitten routine. I caught him giving me amused looks and shaking his head in amazement and awe at the volume of some of the beast's rampant war-cries. In dire need of immediate sustenance, I'd been forced to consume both of the Snickers bars he'd purchased earlier. And I was kicking myself for not having grabbed a Three Musketeers bar and a few Reese's Peanut Butter Cups when he'd given me the opportunity.

I opened the door a crack and surreptitiously stuck my head outside to check on the noise I'd just heard in the corridor. I was hoping it was the trolley with the fortifications necessary to keep the beast at bay. But, knowing Tina and my nosy-parker brigade of girlfriends, I was also braced for the possibility that they'd staked out the room in order to get a look at my hot companion for the night. No way my earlier threat to Tina was going to win out over her almost-legendary nosiness-especially if there was a hot man and illicit sex involved. I wouldn't have ruled out her climbing under the room service trolley and getting wheeled into the room in order to grab a quick look-see. I'd have done it; I knew she thought the same way I did. Which was scary.

"Burning rubber, Babe," he drawled, coming up behind me and wrapping his arm around my waist.

"EEEKKK!" I shrieked, "Make some noise, will you?" I hadn't heard a thing. I swear he moves like a cat. A jungle cat, mysterious, dark and dangerous. A predatory black panther stalking his helpless prey, ready to pounce on her and drag her back to his lair to mate with her with a primal savage lust that knew no bounds. Damn, I'm so horny I'm turning myself on!

"No need to, that's my job, Babe," he said, brushing a handful of curls off my neck and planting a soft kiss just below my ear.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" I groaned.

He laughed, then pulled me out of the door and shut it firmly behind us. "A watched pot never boils. Haven't you ever heard that saying?"

"I don't want to watch a boiling pot. I want to eat my Fettuccini Alfredo. And my desserts. All four of them."

"Come over here and let me distract you."

"We already tried that. Unless you have some more candy bars hidden in that bag, I'm not interested in being distracted. I'm too hungry. I need to eat. I'm starving. I can't take it anymore. What the hell are they doing downstairs in the kitchen? Don't they understand they have a woman up here in dire need of nourishment?"

"Babe. Relax. It's just dinner, not a religious experience."

"This from the man who ordered a Caesar salad, hold the everything! No wonder you aren't anxious to get your dinner. You didn't even order dessert."

"That's because I'm looking at her." Another wolf grin. "Yum yum."

"You're just lucky you're so damned hot. Because you can be pretty annoying sometimes." I worked mighty hard to keep a goofy smile off my face. In truth, I was feeling that 'yum yum' straight down to my doodah.

"You didn't even ask how I planned to distract you. Sure you don't want to know? Promise you'll enjoy it, Babe."

"Are you gonna give me that strip show you promised?" I asked hopefully. I could definitely be distracted that way.

"Maybe later. I was kinda thinking we might play a game first."

"What kind of game?" I questioned suspiciously.

"One I just made up a few minutes ago. It's called 'Anything Goes'."

"Are we gonna get naked in this game?"

"I sure hope so, Babe. That's the whole idea."

"I'm liking it a lot so far. Tell me more."

"Well, it seems to me we have a very unique opportunity here. We're basically strangers in the night, horny as hell, and we've agreed to spend the night satisfying all of our mutual desires."

"Plus you're going to ruin me for all other men."

"That too. So I was thinking: What if we cut right to the chase? Lay all of our cards on the table."

"I thought we already had. We're here, aren't we? Not downstairs having drinks and pretending to chat each other up about things that don't matter a rat's ass to either one of us."

"You have a point. But I mean...really cut to the chase, Babe. Be totally and completely honest with each other about what turns us on. Our wildest fantasies."

Gulp. "Like the handcuffs?" I squeaked, my voice barely audible.

"Yeah. That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"You told me you didn't have any handcuffs with you." Now I'd forgotten all about the damned Fettuccini Alfredo. Successful distraction technique, all right. Score one for Superman!

"Well, I don't. Unfortunately. But we can always make do using something else. If that's what turns you on, I mean. Necessity is the Mother of Invention, after all."

"I'm listening." I'm also getting major hot flashes, but I figured he probably already knew that.

"Here, take this pad of paper and this pen. Write down six of your wildest sexual fantasies. Don't hold anything back. Then I'll do the same with mine."

"No butt stuff," I gave him my Burg girl death glare.

"No butt stuff," he promised. A long pause. "Technically."

"Wait just a minute, here, Buddy! What the hell does that mean?" I didn't like the sound of that, and said so.

"It means I'm not putting my cock anywhere you don't want it to go," he clarified, "And if we read each other's fantasy and can't bring ourselves to do it, we can just pass on it. OK?"

"I guess."

"Don't sound too sure about that, Babe."

"I'm still trying to figure out that whole 'technically' thing."


"Why six?"

"Well, six for you and six for me comes out to twelve."

"Duh. I can count. So? Why twelve? Why not four or six or eight or ten?"

He held up the package of Magnum XXL condoms he'd purchased earlier. "Package of twelve. See? So we wrap one of these inside each of our fantasies and we toss them into this." He held aloft the empty ice bucket. "Then we take turns pulling out one fantasy each. And we go for it. No holds barred."

"What if only yours get pulled, though? I don't want to get gypped out of anything here," I pouted unhappily. With my luck, I'd be very creative coming up with the best six fantasies in the world and I'd get none of them satisfied. That would suck, majorly.

"I thought of that, already," he assured me, "We do them all. Nobody gets gypped out of anything, Babe. Total ruination. Guaranteed."

I think I lost consciousness for a brief moment. "What do you mean 'we do them all'?"

"We have all night, Babe."

"That's twelve times." Eep!

"I can count." A big wolf grin.

I suddenly couldn't get my mouth and my brain to work together. "Umm…but…if…you…twelve times? In one night? As in sex? Us? Twelve times?"

"I was thinking I could always head downstairs and get another box, if you want to try for more?" The bastard was enjoying this.

"You're insane."

"I'm horny, Babe."

"Well, so am I. But twelve times is a physical impossibility."

"Won't get much sleep. But who needs it, right? We can sleep tomorrow."

"I'm going to a wedding tomorrow afternoon. I can't stay up all night and have sex with you." Not that I wouldn't be willing. Mental head slap. Of course I can't. I'm a bridesmaid! I have to get my pictures taken tomorrow; I don't want to look like something the cat dragged in!

"You could try sleeping through it, but it wouldn't be as much fun. For either one of us."

"You are joking, right?"

"About the sleeping through it, yes. Not about the twelve times."

"When was the last time you had sex, anyway?"

"About as long ago as you."

"I find that very hard to believe."

"I've been away, Babe."

"Away? As in-jail?" Holy shit, what the hell did I get myself into here? I could hear my mother's long-suffering voice, "Why me? Ethel Szepessi's daughter never picks up ex-convict sex maniacs and has one night stands with them!"

"Away as in the Army, Babe."

"You were in the Army?"

"Yeah. Still am. I ship out Monday on another tour of duty."

I gave him the suspicious once-over. "I'm not seeing a crew cut and a uniform. Are you AWOL?" Shit, now I was going to have to worry about the Military Police breaking down the door and dragging his fine hot ass away before I got that promised Doomsday Orgasm. Damn Gladys, anyway! I could've already been satisfied, but no…bitch had to go to Atlantic City with our money!

"No, I'm not AWOL, Babe. I'm in a…particular situation that doesn't require regulation haircuts or uniforms." He started to look slightly uncomfortable. "Never mind the details, OK? I promise you, I'm not an ex-con or an escaped maniac."

"You're just horny."


"And egotistical."


"And overly ambitious."

"Not in the least."

"Twelve times."

"Guaranteed. Just write down your six fantasies, Babe. The kinkier the better. In explicit detail."

"My biggest kinkiest fantasy is more than twice in one night."

"Gotta aim higher than that, Babe. Much higher."

"Really kinky?"

"Live a little." He opened the box of Magnum XXL condoms and pushed six over to me. "Anything goes, Babe."


That's exactly what scared me.


I blame it entirely on the three or four chocolate martinis that were running rampant through my bloodstream on an empty stomach. And on the fact that I hadn't been laid in ages. Even then I'd only had Dickie Orr-and that was as good as nothing. Trust me on that. The bastard. And I blame my Hungarian hormones which were in complete overdrive as a result of my long-time deprived sexual state. And on the fact that it was supremely liberating sexually to imagine living out your wildest fantasies with a totally hot and horny stranger who you'll never see again so he can't ever remind you what a kinky freak you were one crazy October night when you abandoned all the good sense that God gave you and just let total lust consume you and…well, you get the picture!

Bottom line: it wasn't my fault. None of it. It was his fault. All of it. The sexy man in black who came up with this wickedly exciting game and now had me scribbling fast and furiously on the notepaper, my body temperature soaring to triple digits as my inner slut came out to play. And play she did. Oh boy, did she ever!

I peered up at him speculatively, nibbling on the tip of my pen. What should I ask for next? I already had four of my six fantasies written out in detail and neatly wrapped around the condoms, ready to drop into the bucket. I'd picked some real doozies, too. Holy Moly Mother of God, had I ever! In fact, I think I'd nearly had a mini-orgasm just writing the last one down: it was my best achievement ever. To think I was actually going to get what I asked for, all night long….well, it was totally surreal.

I was still halfway expecting Alan Funt to jump out any minute with the entire Candid Camera crew in tow. There I'd be on national television, totally humiliated in front of everyone I knew. And completely dessert-less for the rest of my natural life once my mother heard from Myrtle Kripenski's second cousin Shirley who watched it on the big screen TV at the Senior Center that her daughter Stephanie Plum was a perverted sex crazed bimbo slut.

God only knows how many creepy men were going to get their rocks off just watching the episode! It probably would be the highest rated Candid Camera ever. And then I'd have to deal with hundreds of sex maniacs stalking me daily and sending me their icky underwear in the mail and calling me at all hours heavy breathing and telling me what their secret kinky fantasies were. For sure, I'd end up on the cover of the National Enquirer as America's Biggest Kinkiest Sex Freak ever. Wait! How many countries aired Candid Camera, anyway? Maybe I would be a World-Wide Kinky Sex Freak?

Oh, crap, I was now ready to hyperventilate over this whole damned thing!

"I need a paper bag," I blurted. "Quick!"

"Breathe, Babe," he instructed calmly. "Getting a little scary over there."

"I'm really not cut out for this whole sex bomb thing."

"You're a natural, Babe. Look in the mirror. I've never seen a woman hotter or sexier than you are."

"You can't have looked very far, then."

"Babe." I got a 100 watt smile and an amused chuckle. "I've looked plenty. Trust me, you have more sex appeal than you can possibly imagine. You're unbelievably sexy! You can do this, Stephanie. And just relax, we won't do anything you don't want to do. Didn't I already promise you that?"

"That's not what I'm afraid of-not wanting to do it, I mean."

"Then what?"

"It's the wanting to do it that really scares me. You haven't seen my fantasies yet."

His smile increased to 200 watts instantly. "That sounds promising."

"You don't secretly work for Alan Funt, do you?"

"No, Babe. This is real."

"Just checking. I didn't think so."

I went back to writing my fifth fantasy-and this was the one that really sent me over the top. I closed my eyes, imagining what he would look like completely naked…slathered with whipped cream…that I would then slowly lick off every delicious mocha latte inch of his hard muscular spectacularly well-endowed body while he begged for mercy. Yummy. Then I went back and added a few more details, remembering the four desserts I'd ordered from room service. Surely I could make better use of them on his body than eating them with a spoon? Oh, yeah. I could definitely do that. Double yummy.

"You're definitely getting in the spirit of things," he teased, "I can hear you moaning from over here."

"It's not my fault."

"No worries, Babe."

"Omigod. I just realized that I'm a complete sex freak."

"Good, glad to hear it. The freakier the better."

"XXXL, right?" I couldn't wrap my short-circuiting brain around that concept.

"And every inch of it hard and ready, and at your command, all night long."

"Holy living shit." I fanned myself rapidly.

"Hey, Babe?"


"If you think you're a sex freak, just wait till you see my fantasies." A huge wolf grin.

Omigod! "Are you trying to scare me?"

"Why? Is that what I'm doing?"

"No. You're getting me really really hot instead."

"Good, then it's working just fine."

"I'm so horny now I could scream." And I was. I was nearing nuclear meltdown.

"You'll be screaming all right, very soon, Babe. I promise you that."

"So then I guess you should tell me. Before the ruination begins. So I'm prepared."

"Tell you what, Babe?" He finished writing, and began wrapping the paper around the last condom in his pile.

"Your real name, Superman. So I know what to scream out when I'm finally getting my Doomsday Orgasm. Which I'm confidently expecting any time now, thanks to this killer of a fantasy I just finished concocting."

"Doomsday Orgasm, huh?" He raised one eyebrow interestedly. "What exactly is that?"

"The one where my whole vagina spontaneously combusts upon penetration and I enter an entirely new sexual dimension previously unknown and off-limits to all other mortal women."

"Must be some unbelievably hot fantasy you got going on there, Wonder Woman."

"Damned skippy, Superman."

"It's Carlos," he tossed the last of his papers into the bucket and pushed it across the table towards me. "My name is Carlos, Babe."

"Carlos," I repeated, trying unsuccessfully to roll my 'r' as he had. "Very sexy. Strong. Passionate. Like the man himself. Carlos."

He corrected me gently. "Carr-los. God, I love the way my name sounds on your lips, Babe."

"MMMMM, say something to me in Spanish," I whispered. I was tingling all over.

"Tu eres muy sexy, y me muero de ganas." His voice was liquid sex.

"What's that mean?" I didn't care what the hell it meant, I just wanted him to keep saying it. All night long.

"You're very sexy, and I'm very horny." A big wolf grin.

"Say something else," I purred. "Anything at all."

"Tu sonrisa es bonita, Estefanía, y me encantes." He stood up and moved towards me, and my heart started beating out of my chest.

"Which means what?"

"You have a beautiful smile, Stephanie, and you enchant me."

"Honestly? It gets me so totally hot when you speak Spanish to me, Carlos. I'm putting that right here in my sixth fantasy: I want you to talk to me in Spanish while you're fucking me. I might actually have an orgasm from the sound of your voice alone-and that's no lie."

"Te voy a hacer la sopa."

"I like the sound of that."

"You're going to like the feel of it even more, Babe. It's part of the fantasy I just finished writing."

"OK, so say it again and slowly."

He moved behind me and leaned down to whisper it into my ear. "Te voy a hacer la sopa."

"Now tell me what it means."

"I'm going to suck your pussy."

"Oh freaking hell, I just had an enormous tsunami of a hot flash!"

"Babe." He laughed in amusement, "You never disappoint."

"I can't help it." I kicked my feet in excitement, "GOD! I'm so fucking horny I'm going to explode any second now. Wait a minute! You put that in your fantasy?" He nodded. "I just put that in mine."

He licked his lips slowly, a devilish grin on his face. "Double the pleasure, double the fun."

"Why did you put that in your fantasy?"

"Because I can't wait to taste your sweet pussy juices, and fuck you with my tongue and my mouth. Then use my fingers on you and make you crazy for more."

"You're a true God among men, Carlos," I sighed, worshipfully.

"So I've been told, Babe."

"Modest too. But since I can't even remember the last time anyone went down on me, I'm going to forgive that and just enjoy the plentiful bounty the Spanish Sex God is willing to bestow on me tonight."

"Cuban, Babe. And you're telling me Dickie didn't go down on you? At all?" He said 'Dickie' with such disdain that I couldn't help laughing.

"Nope. Dickie didn't do much of anything for me in bed, truth be told. Then the bastard had the fuckin' nerve to cheat on me on top of it."

"He's a colossal ass for many reasons."

"Truer words ain't never been spoken, Superman."

"And Babe? For the record?"


"It's in three of my fantasies, not just one."

"Omigod! Then I'll worship at your altar, oh mighty Cuban Sex God Carlos the Super Hot and All Powerful Hunk of Burning Love." I wasn't kidding, either. Holy living shit! I was gonna get eaten four times in one night? And fucked twelve times? Stephanie Plum was one very very happy woman right about now!

"Estoy loco por ti, Babe. Desde que te conocí no hago nada más que pensar en ti."*

Just then a knock sounded at the door, preventing me from pressing for a translation.

"Room service finally got here, Babe. You want to get it or shall I?"

"Can you do it, please? I want to finish writing number six before I lose my train of thought." I kept scribbling, embellishing on my latest masterpiece. I was making damned certain I got myself a lot of Spanish and a heaping helping of that 'hacer la sopa' he was offering up so freely tonight. Yep, that sounded mighty good to me, all right! It surely did!

I completed writing just as the waiter wheeled the trolley into the room. Carlos paid the check and saw the waiter out. Sighing happily, I dumped my sixth and final fantasy into the bucket and turned to where he stood watching me, a warm smile on his handsome face.

"Let's eat so we can get to the best part of the evening," I invited, looking over at the Holy Grail, which contained twelve sizzling hot pieces of paper and twelve condoms. I couldn't wait to see what he'd chosen for us to do! Whatever it was, I knew damned well I would enjoy every single second of it!

He held out his hand and pulled me into his arms where he kissed me surprisingly tenderly. "You mean, let's feed your beast and lock him up for the night. So that I can finally unleash mine."

I grinned wickedly. Yeah, that was exactly what I meant, all right. I was definitely more than ready to meet the XXXL beast!

Oh boy, was I ever ready!

Come on, you big hot naughty red-hot Cuban beastie: come to Momma!

*You drive me crazy, Babe. Since I met you I do nothing else but think about you.


Carlos' POV

I've never met anyone who could give me a hard-on merely by watching her eat Fettuccini Alfredo. It was the way she was slurping the noodles slowly and thoroughly, rapturously moaning in a pre-orgasmic bliss that just killed me. Her heavy-lidded eyes actually rolled back in her head no less than three times, and she licked her pouty lips slow and sensuously rather than simply dabbing them dry and clean with the cloth napkin that sat unused on her lap. I could very easily visualize those delicious lips sucking a very prominent portion of my anatomy, and I was eagerly anticipating at least two of my detailed fantasies which had her doing just that-among other very pleasurable things. If I could ever get her away from the damned pasta, that is.

"Christ, Babe," I finally begged raggedly, "have mercy!"

She looked up in stunned surprise and I could see she was completely unaware what she'd been doing to my poor body. When she finally realized my desperate condition, she blushed prettily and whispered a soft, "Oops! Sorry." Then five minutes later she was unconsciously back to slurping and moaning again. What can I say? The woman clearly loved her Fettuccini Alfredo!

I'd never met anyone like Stephanie before. Sensual, lusty and impulsive beyond belief. How the hell I'd gotten lucky enough to meet her-let alone spend the evening with her living out my wildest kinkiest fantasies-I hadn't a clue. Obviously the planets had aligned in my favor tonight, not that I deserved my good fortune. But I'm an opportunist; so I'd grabbed the opportunity when it was offered, and I sure wasn't letting go anytime soon.

I don't think I tasted a mouthful of the Caesar salad, I was too distracted watching my lovely companion and trying to predict just what she'd written down for her six choices. Obviously, she thought they were daring; but then, it was apparent to me she didn't have very much sexual experience at all, despite her beauty. That horse's ass of an ex-husband of hers hadn't been pleasuring his woman at all, so somehow I expected that she'd be over the moon for just a few powerful orgasms no matter how the hell she managed to get them.

Well, she might not be very creative, but I was certain I had been. Together, we'd both come out very satisfied people tonight. I was committed to giving her that long-desired Doomsday Orgasm, and watching her face as she rocketed to the 'entirely new sexual dimension previously unknown and off-limits to all other mortal women'. My very own Wonder Woman! My beautiful deliciously sexy Babe!

"MMMMMMM," she sighed happily, smacking her lips, finally pushing away her almost empty plate. "That was so good! You have no idea how sinfully scrumptious that was!"

"Glad you enjoyed, Babe," I indicated her untouched desserts: all four of them. "So, which one is it going to be? Tiramisu? Hot Fudge Sundae? Chocolate Mousse? Or Chocolate Cheesecake with Raspberry Sauce?"

She giggled, "I really think I'm gonna surprise you with that choice, Superman."

"Really?" I lifted an eyebrow questioningly. What was she up to, anyway? I was more than intrigued. "How so?"

She dipped two slender fingers into the pool of raspberry sauce that surrounded her slice of cheesecake, then lifted it to her lips and ever so slowly and sensuously licked her fingers clean. Her eyes twinkled wickedly. "I'm willing to share, Carlos. Want a taste?"

"Of something," I agreed, leaning in for a long deep kiss. "Not raspberries, though."

"You don't like raspberries?" she whispered teasingly, "What about this? You like this instead?" She stroked her fingers over the whipped cream from her Sundae and then seductively painted it on my bottom lip, diving in then to suck it off greedily.

I moaned low and deep, "Oh, yeah-I like that a lot, Babe."

"And what about this? You like this too, Carlos?" She followed the whipped cream with a dab of hot fudge that somehow smeared down my chin-followed by her hungry mouth. The touch of her tongue flicking over my skin sent sparks shooting through my veins.

"That's even better." I slid my hand into her hair and pulled her head closer so I could deepen the kiss.

We traded lazy wet kisses for several minutes, until she pulled away framing my face with her hands. She met my eyes, surprising me with her quiet intensity. "I'm ready to be ruined for all other men now, Superman."

"You sure about that, Babe?" I growled. "No coming back from where we're going."

Her voice was a husky purr, "Let the Ruination begin!"

And begin it did, just a few moments later. I held the bucket out and indicated that she should draw the first selection. I think we both held our breath; the air was electric with sexual tension.

She opened the paper slowly, and I watched her eyes carefully. Instantly, I could tell from her lack of surprise as she read the description that the fantasy she'd selected from the bucket was one of hers and not one of mine. I caught the lascivious sparkle in her very expressive eyes, and knew damned well that this was one of her favorites…if not 'the' favorite of all.

"Babe?" I questioned, trying to keep a smile off my face.

"You said 'Anything Goes', right?" she questioned, licking her lips nervously.

I felt my body tingling in anticipation. "Yes, that's what I said."

"You meant it? Whatever I have on this paper you're going to go along with?"

"Don't like the sound of that, Babe," I teased.

Actually I felt myself getting hard from the sheer thought of whatever the hell she might have written that made her so damned sure I would refuse to do it. I'd meant what I said when I suggested the game; I was pretty damned kinky in the bedroom when I had a woman I really trusted and one I wanted so badly. Stephanie qualified on both counts.

She handed me the paper without another word and I read it with the greatest of curiosity. My cock hardened instantly. I'd never have expected this choice from the oh-so-easily-blushing Stephanie, but I was more than ready to comply. In fact, I was aching to start and nodded my assent silently. Her blue eyes widened, she gulped, and then her posture straightened regally.

"Very well. Let us begin. I am Intergalactic Princess Stephanie of the Planet Chambersburg. Henceforth, you shall address me only as 'Your Magnificence', is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Magnificence," I responded, my voice husky in arousal.

"You are my sex slave. You exist only for my gratification. You have no name. You have no importance other than to pleasure me. You will submit instantly to any order I deign to give you, and you will not question me in any way. Otherwise I shall be forced to severely punish you for your insolence."

"I understand, Your Magnificence." Christ, I was hard as a rock already.

"I would hate to be forced to mar your fine smooth mocha latte hued skin with lashes, but I shall discipline you if you displease me in any way. Do you understand, Slave?"

Her voice was icy, her demeanor haughty. I wanted to rip that tiny red dress off her voluptuous body and fuck her senseless where she stood.

"Yes, Your Magnificence."

"Tell me what your purpose is, Slave."

"My sole purpose, Your Magnificence, is to pleasure your gloriously beautiful and incredibly hot delectable body in any and every way that you wish. I live only to service you and obey your every command."

"You find me desirable, Slave?" She pierced me with her stare, and I saw just the slightest-oh the very slightest-hint of a smirk on her sensuous lips. My Babe was loving this, every single second of it. So was I.

"No more desirable woman has ever drawn breath in the history of the Universe, Your Magnificence." That much was true-I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted anyone in my life. Now more than ever. She continued to surprise me. And she never disappointed.

"You then realize how extremely fortunate you are to be granted this unique opportunity to pleasure me?"

"I am fortunate beyond my wildest expectations, Your Magnificence."

"You are indeed, Slave. See that your performance lives up to the great opportunity you have been granted. If I am not euphoric in sexual bliss within minutes I shall cut off your cock and feed it to Rex, the Mighty Beast Protector of My Planet. He is a fierce ferocious beast and you will die a terrible death."

"I shall not fail you, Your Magnificence. I shall have you screaming in supreme orgasmic delight so powerful that your cries will echo throughout the galaxy."

"We shall see," she sniffed dismissively. "Many Slaves talk a fine game, but then are severely lacking in length and girth of equipment. I suppose you claim to have the necessary tools to satisfy my appetites so completely that I shall not need to hunt up another Slave and use him for my gratification?"

"I am confident that my equipment will be more than adequate to meet Your Magnificence's highest standards."

"Very well. You may undress for me now. Remove your shirt, Slave. Then toss it on the floor and let me examine your body thoroughly."

"I hear and obey, Your Magnificence."

I locked eyes with Stephanie-Princess Stephanie of Chambersburg that is-and began to slowly unbutton my black silk shirt, never breaking eye contact with her. I knew damned well I had a great body: not an ounce of fat, with broad shoulders, well-defined muscles, an eight pack and a flat washboard stomach. I saw her blue eyes darken in arousal as they traveled over every inch of me carefully. I could see from her lustful expression that she was definitely quite impressed.

She flashed back to my eyes and stiffened immediately. She was playing the Intergalactic Bitch Princess to the hilt, I had to give her props for that. I was so turned on I could barely keep from moaning in agony; I wanted her so damned badly.

"You find me amusing, Slave?" Her frigid tone challenged me.

"No, Your Magnificence. I dare not do so. Instead, I find you extraordinarily stunning and deliciously sexy."

"I believe I saw the hint of a smile on your unworthy lips, Slave. I am concerned that your attitude is less than satisfactory. I do not appreciate your impertinence."

"Forgive me, Your Magnificence. I am only a mere mortal man, overwhelmed by the succulence of your delectable body. I mean no offense to your Imperial Splendiforousness."

"You want to fuck me so bad," she smirked.

"Damn straight I do," I admitted.

"Very well, Slave," she resumed her Imperial Haughtiness, and we both put our game faces back on for the rest of the show. "You may continue to attempt to interest me in your possibilities as a sex partner for the evening."

"Thank you, Your Magnificence. I grovel at your temptingly red stiletto heeled feet."

"Indeed you do, as well you should. You are deeply unworthy, Slave. Remember that, and all might be well yet. Now, remove your belt and drop your pants. I wish to examine the equipment you hold in such high regard. Keep in mind that if it does not meet my supremely high standards for man meat, Rex the Mighty Beast Protector of My Planet will dine on your prized possessions this evening."

SHIT! That was pretty damned scary, I have to admit. Instinctively I winced and watched Princess Stephanie struggle desperately to hide a huge smug grin.

I was speechless for a minute, then rallied with, "I do not think the Mighty Beast Rex will have the opportunity to do so, Your Magnificence. I have every expectation that my 'prized possessions' will be otherwise occupied tonight."

"How so, Slave?"

"Servicing Your Magnificence, of course."

I unbuckled my belt and slid it out of my jeans. I was about to drop it to the floor when she again surprised me. She took the belt from my hands and folded it, as she met my eyes challengingly. I knew damned well what she was planning and my cock grew another few inches just thinking about it. I unbuttoned my jeans, unzipped my fly and dropped my black jeans to my feet.

My 11 inch cock sprang free, proud and hard and ready to fuck the living hell out of Intergalactic Princess Stephanie of Chambersburg. She damned near dropped the belt, and I saw her eyes widen to the size of saucers. I bit down on my lip to prevent the ear to ear grin that threatened to split my face. I watched her eyes, which were riveted to my fully erect cock, and then I almost lost my composure completely when I noticed that her mouth had opened and a tiny river of drool was beginning to flow from the left side of her beautiful mouth.

"I hope I please Your Magnificence with my humble offering."

"Damn skippy," she sounded dazed.

"I beg your pardon, Your Magnificence?" OK, so I was a smart ass: I couldn't resist.

There was a long pause while she desperately struggled to get back into character. "I suppose you'll have to do. But truly, I've seen better," she sniffed in boredom.

The hell she had! "Would that have been that of Lord Dickie the Prick of Chambersburg, your former Consort?" I asked pointedly.

"Insolent unworthy Slave! You displease me greatly! I shall have to punish you now. I want you naked and on your hands and knees instantly."

God, I swear, I was ready to come right then and there! I wasted no time in complying with her orders, and-as expected-she fondled my leather belt, and took her own sweet time in showing me what she planned to do with it. When she seemed satisfied that I was not going to object, she stepped behind me and I felt the leather sliding across my tight ass, almost caressing me on both cheeks. I readied myself for the blow or blows I knew would come momentarily.

"Your insolence has brought this necessary correction upon yourself."

"Yes, Your Magnificence. I deserve to be disciplined for my outrageously inappropriate words."

"Indeed you do, Slave. And so you shall be."

The lashes-there were six strokes-came hard and fast. I groaned as the pleasure disguised as pain seared through my welcoming body. Then the leather returned to caress me, and I heard her drop the belt and walk towards the bed.

My cock was so rock hard and ready for action that I could have gladly screamed in frustration. I remained in place on my hands and knees, hoping like hell for that long-awaited command. I heard the rasp of a zipper and moments later a red satin dress was pitched on the floor in front of me. I held my breath, hardly daring to turn my head to see how gorgeous she looked finally naked.

I felt the rush of air and saw a flash of navy blue as the down comforter was tossed carelessly off the king sized bed. I heard a rustle as the cotton sheets were pushed down to follow it. I swallowed, my eyes sparkling and my body singing in anticipation.

"You may rise and now approach my hot, naked and extremely horny body, lowly Slave."

"Thank you, Your Magnificence. I quiver in anticipation."

I rose to my feet and turned to look at Stephanie. She was a vision of loveliness, her riot of curly brown hair cascading over the pillow and her smooth deliciously shaped body recumbent upon the bed. I drank in her beauty, memorizing every tempting inch of her.

"Get your gorgeous body and that enormous XXXL cock over here now, Slave!"

"I hear and obey, Your Magnificence. I live only to-"

"Shut the hell up and fuck me, wise ass!"

I grinned, and made double time for the bed. I grabbed the condom from the nightstand, and dressed myself quickly.

We were both ravenous, and fell upon each other, feeding greedily. I was stunned-and thrilled-to see just how uninhibited and utterly ferocious Stephanie was in bed. The woman was a tiger, like no one I'd ever experienced before. Our mouths fused to each other, in a seemingly never-ending kiss that threatened to cause us both to spontaneously combust.

I'd honestly anticipated that our first time would be slow, that Stephanie would need to be coaxed to relax before she was prepared to take my enormous length into her body. I couldn't have been more wrong. She spread her legs almost instantly; and her confident hand reached between my legs to grasp my throbbing cock and guide it to her warm center. The woman knew what she wanted and she was prepared to take it without hesitation.

I broke the kiss reluctantly, "Babe, you're not ready yet. Let me-"

"The hell I'm not!" she snarled, her eyes flashing dangerously, "I've been ready for this since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Fuck me! Now!"

Damn! I was more than willing to comply! In one powerful thrust, I plunged my cock into her, burying it to the hilt. She screamed, a mix of both pain and pleasure. I'll remember that sound for the rest of my life. She wrapped her arms tightly around my back, pulling me closer, and slid her hands down to cup my ass-still sore from the lashes she'd given me with my own belt. I allowed her a minute to adjust to my magnitude.

Her eyes glittered with a primitive passion. "God, you feel so fucking good!" she hissed, wrapping her legs around my waist and crossing her ankles. "Ride me, Carlos. Hard and fast. Give me everything-I want it all! Pound me senseless. Make me scream!"

I was her Slave; I could do no less. I kissed her deeply and started pistoning inside her.

Neither one of us lasted long. We were both screaming by the time we hit our mutual release. Moments later, I rolled off her, and we lay on our backs silently, boneless and completely exhausted. It took awhile for us to catch our breath, and honestly, there were no words. It had been absolute Heaven. I was pretty damned sure that I'd entered that 'entirely new sexual dimension' she'd mentioned earlier. It was a pretty damned great place to be: I planned to stay there all night long.

"Finally, an honest man," came a soft throaty whisper, as Stephanie regained her power of speech. "Truth in advertising. What a concept."

I grinned, "How's Your Magnificence doing?"

"Fucking fantastic. How about you, lowly Slave?"

"Never better."

"Ain't that the truth," she purred contentedly. "You were amazing. I'm a very happy Intergalactic Princess."

"You've got a hell of an imagination there, Babe."

"Surprised you, huh?"

"God, yeah. In the best possible way."

"How's that fine hot little Cuban ass of yours?"

"Sore, Babe."

"I didn't think you'd let me do that."

"You'd be surprised what I'll let you do, Babe."

"OOOOHHHH! I just got another hot flash."

"Rex the Mighty Beast, Protector of Your Planet?"

"Should've seen your face, Superman."

"Baiting the tiger, Babe."

"What's that mean?"

"It means, wait till you see what I have in store for you. It's gonna make 'Rex the Mighty Beast' look like a tame little pussy cat."

There was a long silence.

"You meant what you said before about being kinky in the bedroom, didn't you?"

"Truth in advertising, Babe."


"Be afraid, Babe-be very afraid."

I climbed out of bed and headed for the bucket which contained eleven more fantasies. The night was still young.