WHEN HARRIET MET JOHNSON
Sequel to "The Foot-to-Johnson Ratio"
By Char Chaffin
MSR, Some Humor, some angst - NC-17
Spoilers, Disclaimers:  No Spoilers.  Clones on Loan -

Note:  Yes, I would have left them riding off into the sunset toward
Mulder's apartment, but I got poked.  Prodded.  With sharp, pointy
spears, LOL!  I finally gave up trying to ignore them... and this
sequel is the result.

THANKS to:  Tess, Sallie and Carol, the Dream Beta Team!  And a big
thanks to Piper and Mims for taking an advance gander at it, and
emailing me with all kinds of encouragement.  Darlins, all!  

Summary:  There's intimacy, and then there's intimacy... as Mulder
and Scully both discover!


"When Harriet Met Johnson"



Don't be nervous.
Don't be nervous.

Oh hell... I was nervous.

It was stupid in the extreme, to be nervous.  I mean, we'd just seen
each other naked, for Christ's sake.  On the damn floor of our office
no less - in the middle of the day with all the lights on.  To say
we'd gone beyond typical intimacy was the understatement of the
decade.  And we'd held each other close, murmuring our love as our
heartbeats calmed and the reality of what we'd done set in.

And for once it was right and good - for once there was no regret. 
No guilt and no recriminations.  

Stop being nervous.

I thought back on the day, the way it started.  Sooner or later I
would have to deal with the way it would end, but for now...

Jesus.

When I woke up this morning my thoughts centered around a very nice
anticipatory treat: knowing that in an hour or so I'd be seeing
Scully.  Of course I get this treat every day, but lately the change
in our relationship had made that treat even nicer. Between cases, no
acre of paperwork to mess with and no scheduled reports, we had
planned nothing more strenuous than straightening up and leaving
early.  We had a date the next evening, dinner and maybe a show. 
Again, nice - normal.  

This past month or so there had been kisses, embraces, hand-holding
from time to time.  So far the kisses were gentle and a bit hesitant,
but that was all right.  The embraces were careful but close enough
to feel her body and for her to feel mine.  Quality time together,
relaxing time interspersed with more conversing and more touching. 

It was the 'after-dinner-and-show' aspect of tomorrow that I was
anticipating, but certainly not with any sort of gut-wrenching
anxiety.  I just knew our time was closing in on us and I also felt
we were almost there, just about ready.

Slow, yes... I suppose we were moving at a snail's pace.  Don't get
me wrong.  Dana Scully is a passionate woman; I've always sensed
that.  And I'm your normal horny male, for want of a better
description.  But over the years we'd both been hurt, burned,
whatever you wanted to call it.  We'd allowed our unsatisfactory
relationships to stunt us.  By the time we both realized how much we
cared for each other, the habits we'd formed were ingrained and
damned hard to break.  But we'd been trying, we wanted it so badly -
and we had been winning, in small bits and moments. Compared to other
couples, I suppose you could call us old-fashioned... but I liked it.
Scully liked it.

And then, two weeks ago, she was late one morning and I was worried.
When she finally showed up I was so happy to see her there - smiling
and holding a bag of bagels - I hauled off and kissed her, hard. 
Kissed her long.  Kissed her wet, kissed her until the bulge growing
in my slacks became painful.  I let her go and we both stood there
staring at each other, mouths hanging open... then I muttered some
sort of an excuse and ran for the door, figuring the best thing I
could do was find a sink and splash cold water on most of my body.

Little did I know that my hurried stride up to the second floor
men's room would be observed by someone who couldn't help but notice
that bulge in my slacks.  At the time I never saw her, I was too
intent on making it to my destination and cooling off.  But this
woman - I'm still not sure which one - saw me. And she spread the
news to other women in the building.

Now, I'm not completely obtuse.  I know women stare at me.  Women
come on to me.  Most of the time I can hear them, see them on the
perimeter of my consciousness. I pretty much ignore them; long ago I
decided Dana Scully was the woman for me, regardless of whether or
not it ever went further than friendship.  Yes, I'm your normal horny
male person, but as I said before, I was also emotionally stunted. 
Having Scully in any capacity was, and will always remain, more
important to me than worrying whether or not some woman somewhere may
want to strike up a conversation, flirtation or general planking
session with me.

Well, that was before Scully and I finally began moving forward. 
Now, if asked to step back, to retreat and return to a more platonic
time, well... I'd be in actual pain, I think.  Yes, I would still
love her, madly and endlessly.  I would want her in my life no matter
what the restrictions might be.  But how lucky I felt that we'd made
a choice and that choice was to let love happen and progress. 
Slowly... comfortably.  Well, comfortable is good, right?

Until this morning.  Until a conversation in a rest room, overheard
by Scully, led us to this moment in our respective lives: driving to
my place, with Scully in the lead.  The shadowed back of her head was
visible as she hit the red lights and the stop signs, eased onto the
expressway, took the appropriate exits.  The direct result of
eavesdropping on her part - and I was so glad she'd done it.  Because
we could have gone on for weeks longer, kissing gently and embracing
tenderly, holding hands like teenagers at the prom.  And it was
wonderful, of course it was! - but it wasn't nearly enough, and we
both knew it.  

For if it had been, Scully would never have felt the compulsion to
listen in on a more-or-less private conversation. She would never
have returned to the office blushing six ways to Sunday and spurring
me to ferret out the details of her bathroom stall experience - and
we wouldn't have ended up on the office floor, previewing the
consummation of our love with a bit of oral trade-off.

And I wouldn't be a nervous wreck right now.

But it was good-nervous, if there is such a thing.  It's that tight
yet fluttery feeling in your chest, right behind the diaphragm.  It's
the drop in your stomach, like free-falling; the rush of awareness
stronger than adrenaline and more addictive than caffeine.  It
clenches at you, makes your hair stand on end and your skin twitter. 
It's the most incredible feeling and if you're extremely lucky you'll
feel it often in your life, and with the right person. After what
Scully and I had done together in our office, you'd have thought the
edge would have been shaved off that feeling.

Wrong-o.

If anything, the feeling got stronger with every mile of pavement
our cars ate up as we drove to my place.  I had been drained in a way
I'd never experienced before, yet I felt like a virgin on his way to
a secret assignation in some motel room.  Insecure... about myself,
the way I would make love to Scully.  In a way, what we'd already
done was far more intimate than actual intercourse.  I'd tasted the
essence of her, in turn had her engulf me with her amazing mouth -
and the orgasms we'd shared had been life-altering.  

And yet, this was different.  We would connect our bodies, I would
enter her, thrust inside her, touch deeply within her, all the way to
her core.  I might not last long enough to satisfy her, perhaps I'd
sweat too much and she'd find it distasteful.  Maybe I'd grunt; oh
shit I hoped I wouldn't grunt!  Might as well be a rutting hog, to
grunt during sex.  A moan, groan, gasp - even a shout was all right. 
Grunting, no.

I was afraid in the throes of my ecstasy, that I'd grunt.  Lovely -
here I am following the woman of my dreams back to my apartment, and
all I can think of is passion-filled grunting. 

Then to top it off, as I pulled into my parking garage right after
Scully, all I could think of was that I'd forgotten to trim my
toenails that morning.  Christ, I was losing it here! I slapped the
steering wheel in frustration.   How could I forget something that
important?  I could just see it now; I'd run a hoary and ragged nail
up her slender leg and leave a divot in her baby-soft skin.  Idiot,
idiot...

Don't be nervous.  

I watched Scully open her car door but she didn't emerge
immediately; like me she sat very still in the driver's seat.  Was
she nervous, too?  Anxious about anything, worried a little?  I
couldn't imagine it; she's so pulled-together.  Even when emotion is
eating at her Scully keeps her cool.  It's an admirable trait and I
knew it to be genuine.  I fake it a lot, that with-it persona, with
my deadpan face and my nonchalant voice.  Took me years to perfect it
but I'm glad I did, for it has come to my rescue many times over the
years.  I've had some shitty relationships; let a few women in my
past walk all over me.  Let them damage me, use me, all in the name
of what I in my utter ignorance sought to label "love".  

Never again.  Thank God, never again...

So fucking nervous.

I looked across my front seat, out the passenger window and met
Scully's eyes as she turned her head and glanced my way. I saw the
same anxiety in her eyes that I was feeling, and that made me toss a
sheepish grin at her.  She returned it with a little half-smile of
her own as she swung her legs out of her car and stood.  Her trench
coat was open and I hid another grin when I saw she hadn't been as
accurate in buttoning up her blouse as she'd led me to believe, back
in the office when I'd hurried into my clothes and she'd proceeded at
a much more sedate pace.  And she'd had the nerve to give me grief
about putting my damn boxers on the wrong way...

Scully took two steps toward my car and I reached over and opened
the door for her.  She slid into the passenger seat and closed the
door after herself, then turned to stare at me.  Her gaze was wide
and open, a touch sheepish as well, and a smidge shy.  I put out a
hand and she slipped hers into it; for a minute we sat there with our
fingers linked, just staring at each other. I knew what she was
thinking; couldn't help but wonder if those thoughts had run amok in
her mind all the way here, same as mine.    

Another milestone to hurdle, now that we'd gotten the blowjobs out
of the way... well, that's more or less what I was thinking. 
Scully's thoughts were of course much more politely worded.

"It's easy, Mulder... like riding a bike after years of walking. 
And I think it's normal for us to be somewhat hesitant, even after
the way we, um, the oral, ah, our encounter in the office."  She
fumbled to a stop and presented me with one hell of a blush on her
beautiful face.

Well, since I was red-faced as well... I nodded and swallowed,
content to just sit in the car for a moment and hold her hand.  I
squeezed her small fingers and felt hers tighten around mine.  I
trailed my free hand over her temple and down one soft cheek,
marveling anew at the utter perfection of her skin.  Knowing that
deep inside her body, where I most needed to be, Scully had to be so
much softer.  

I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles as I murmured,
"I know.  It's asinine to be nervous, worried, whatever - after what
we've already shared.  But I am, Scully, and I'm not sure why.  I
guess I don't want to disappoint you."  At her confused look, I
hastened to add, "Well, we were pretty focused in on certain...
areas, and you didn't really notice my knobby knees.  Or my skinny
calves -"

Her interruption was punctuated with a relieved chuckle.  "Mulder,
jeez!  As if I'd even care about things like that!  I thought I
already told you," she leaned in and let her words trail heat over my
ear, "Harriet loves Johnson.  Harriet loves you... I love you.  Your
knobby knees and skinny calves can get together with my appendix scar
and the sebaceous cyst I have between my shoulder blades, and they
can all have a party - after we tumble each other into bed, and make
that last puzzle piece fit.  Okay?"

Awww, Scully... I met her smile with an abashed one of my own and I
caught her close to me; hugged her tightly.  And couldn't resist a
little tease of my own. "You have a sebaceous cyst?  Ick.  On second
thought, maybe Johnson needs some persuading."

Scully gave me an equally-tight hug, then eased back a little to
look into my face.  "Johnson should be glad to be hanging out with my
cyst, Mulder. It's nicely-rounded.  Your kneecaps, on the other
hand..." She dropped a hand to said knee, and cupped its definitive
knobbiness, "These are some sorry specimens.  Harriet could possibly
run screaming into the night based on the sighting of one, much less
two.  That is, if she could run.  Luckily for you she's attached to
me, and I happen to think your kneecaps are very cute."  

As if to prove it she wriggled out of my arms, enough to bend a
little and press a smiling kiss to my wool-covered knob.  When she
glanced up again, I was more than happy to let her see my heart,
floating in my eyes along with some suspicious kind of moisture that
I'd deny forever could possibly be the start of tears.

We gazed for a few minutes, unblinking, her hand still on my knee
and my arms now loosely about her waist.  It was nice, here in the
cool and dim garage.  We had all afternoon and evening; we had all
night tonight.  Tomorrow night, and the next day and on, and on.  We
had all the time we'd ever need to let our senses and our hearts lead
our bodies into that last, final puzzle.  

There's only one 'first time' intimacy, only once that Tab A slips
into Slot B, and it's all fresh and shiny-new.  Regardless of what
level of sexual knowledge came before, this was special.  It deserved
two participants that weren't jumping out of their own skins with
nerves.  Maybe just slowing down a bit...

"Scully?  You mind if we just sit here a while, maybe hold on to
each other a little?  Some small talk; I think it would be nice. 
That okay with you?"  

She nodded, smiled at me and pressed her palm on my knee.  "I'd like
that.  I have such fond memories of sitting with you in the car,
talking.  Breathing the same air, feeling your warmth -"  Now Scully
was snuggled closer in my embrace, "Glad I can claim that warmth for
myself - glad to have the right."

I kissed her forehead, trailed my lips to her ear and kissed her
there, too.  "You always had the right, Scully.  I think you may have
been born with the right."

We leaned in, got close, held on.  We kissed and talked, spoke of
mundane things, keeping it light.  I played with her fingers, took
turns kissing each small pad, made her laugh when I licked her palm. 
She retaliated by wiping my saliva on my own nose.  Then she kissed
it off, stole it back.  Indian giver...

We kissed at length, deeper, sweeter.  There was sadness in our past
together and we refused to dwell on it.  There were a hundred reasons
why it might be a mistake to become romantically involved, why we
should stay on the well-worn expressway; yet for once we were taking
the road less traveled.  And as we kissed more and talked less, as
our hands began to wander farther and our fingers pressed beneath
places mostly clothed... whatever nervousness I'd felt dissipated
into thin air.  

I had no idea how long we sat in the car, but I do know when we were
ready to walk into my apartment, we walked hand in hand, relaxed and
easy.  I unlocked the door and she pushed it open.  I locked the door
behind us and she snapped on a lamp.  When she tugged at her coat I
was there to help her off with it, and she was kind enough to return
the gesture.

The sofa was closer but we wanted a comfy mattress.  I led her in
and she turned down the bed while I lit a few candles.  We looked at
each other at the same time, grinned foolishly in tandem, she at my
strung-out shirttails and I at her off-kilter blouse buttons.  God,
we were a pair...

Better believe it.

"Nervous"?

"Nope.  You?"

"Uh-uh.  I want this, Mulder.  More importantly, though," she rose
on tiptoe and whispered in my ear, "Harriet wants it.  And I think
it's about time I gave her what she wants."

I ran my hands over Scully's back and slowly pulled her blouse from
the waistband of her skirt, moving beneath the loose silk and filling
my hands with her warm breasts, delighting in the remembrance of her
lack of underwear.  All rolled up in the pocket of my coat... I
pressed my cheek into her neck and spoke to her skin.

"How about I give Harriet what I want, first?  She might really like
it, y'know.  Sound like a plan?"  

"Oh, yeah.  Sounds like a great plan."

Well, that made me a happy boy... "Then lie back, baby - and let me
have at you."

She snickered up at me as she raised her hips for me to slip off her
skirt.  "Isn't that supposed to be, 'Move over, Rover... and let
Johnson take over?'"  

I sighed at her play of words on the true lyrics.  "No, it's not. 
Try 'Let Jimi take over'..." I had most of my clothes off by the time
I'd finished correcting her, and Scully immediately propped herself
up on her elbows and made a point to stare at my groin, partially-
covered in the boxers I'd crammed on upside down.  

And she had the utter nerve to gesture with her index finger, as she
commented, "Jimi, huh?  Well, I sure don't see any 'purple haze',
Mulder."  She watched my eyes narrow with indignation and her baby
blues filled with laughter.  

Okay, them's fightin' words... and my retort made her chuckle even
harder.  

"Oh, there's purple, Scully... you should know that.  Purple, right
on the tip."  I reached out and placed my palm over her nose and
mouth, pushing her back on the mattress as she chuckled against my
hand.  I followed her body down and pressed every inch of me into her
sweet cradle, boxers and all.  She felt so good.  I slipped a hand
between us and twitched at my bothersome underwear, until I'd managed
to get rid of it - and suddenly silly-time was over.  In the midst of
verbal sparring and my usual goof-banter, we'd gone from play to
puzzle-piecing.  

"Take off my blouse, Mulder.  And then I'm going to divest you of
your shirt."  That was Scully's voice, lowered and husky beyond
anything I'd ever heard issue from her throat.  Her eyes glittered up
at me, darkened blue like a sky-storm.  From the waist down we were
both nude, but we'd left our tops on.  I was flush against her, my
penis nestled into her silky hair, and just-right-there.  Move an
inch or less and I'd slip on in, easy as a hot knife through butter.  

Oh, Jesus... how right it felt.  How badly I needed to thrust - and
how desperately I wanted nothing more than to prolong the moment,
take it way past itself, until we were both so crazed and aching that
our bodies just about bled with sensual demand.  Because once I
entered the unknown, once she made a place for me within her body...
that 'first-time' would be going, then gone.  I wasn't ready for it
to be even a tiny bit gone.  I'd waited all my life for this - it
seemed as if I'd been born waiting for the ease of her, the wet hot
of her - only her.

"Scully... don't move.  Wanna make it last forever; one hell of a
build-up, you're so wet, I can feel how wet..."  I was babbling in an
attempt to keep myself from piercing her too soon.  I knew once I
did, once I was inside, no force on earth could stop me from pumping
like a madman, taking all she had to give me and giving it right back
to her.  And it was exactly what I wanted and needed - but a few
minutes more like this, two more groups of sixty seconds, torturing
both of us... I wanted that even more.  And, well... I'm greedy. 

More.  Always it would be more with this woman.

I shifted most of my weight to one elbow, and with minimal fumbling
got the rest of her blouse unbuttoned and her lovely breasts exposed.
Soft, creamy and beyond tempting... I leaned in and caught a small
nipple between my lips, nuzzling her slowly, tasting again the
sweetness of her skin.  Her moaning sigh and the tremble of her
fingers sifting through my hair told me how I was affecting her, but
as I previously mentioned, I'm greedy.  I wanted the words, too.  

In between nibbles, I made my desires known.  "Tell me.  How it
feels.  What you want.  Talk to me, Scully..."

The breath exploded from her lungs in another shaky moan when I
punctuated my words with little bites and tugs.  Her hand tightened
against my scalp and her legs coiled around me.  I pressed down
carefully and was rewarded with a low growl.

"Mulder, God... I can't... I'm not good at talking, not at a time
like this.  Please, just..."  

I raised my head and watched the flush spread over her cheeks as she
asked me please.  I swear I could hear it in my head...

<Please, just touch me.  Please, probe me, open me gently, slip
inside slowly, deeply... forever, deeply.  Please.>  

She couldn't say the words but it was all there for me to read, in
her eyes.  She wanted to say it, this I knew.  But as brilliantly
articulate as Scully was when she talked science; as easy as it was
for her to bind me to her, heart and soul, with words of friendship
and of caring... love was a different matter.   Because it was more
important than any talk of oddball cases and autopsy details; than
bickering over what to order on our pizza or what film to watch on a
mid-week evening.  

It meant everything to us.  And sometimes silence spoke volumes over
vowels and syllables.  

I still wanted her to tell me, though... "Tell me.  Please, what?" 
I let my lips graze over her, both of us now trembling.  Scully
pushed up into me again and it took every ounce of control I had not
to thrust.  I was torturing both of us but I figured the explosion
would be more than worth the build-up.   I moved my hips and rubbed
myself against her, and heard the hiss of her breath; she raised up
from the pillow and her teeth fastened on my bottom lip.  She bit
down and I felt that bite all the way south, to my balls.  

She released me and her voice was a scratchy purr in my ear.  "You
tell me, first.  Tell me, Mulder... how's it feel?"  Her hands
gripped me, low on my hips, curving over each cheek.  Heat poured
from her skin, scalding me.  Her drenched curls tickled against my
swollen flesh, her thighs cradled me, her legs were wound around
mine.  Red hair spilled across my pillow, blue eyes blazed at me. 
Every inch of her screamed out to me, that here was a beautiful and
passionate woman who wanted me, loved me.

God... how did it feel?  There were no words.  And suddenly I
understood how Scully might be feeling.  How could you put into words
something that incredible?  I stared down at the sheer feast of her -
and wondered what in hell I was waiting for.  Words, that was it. But
there were all sorts of words, and sometimes the most powerful ones
were the non-verbal.  The ones you felt, far down within your heart.  

Everything I needed to know was contained in Scully's body language,
radiating out from her generous heart.  And yet, I was certain if I
began talking, maybe she'd follow my lead...

"It feels fucking amazing, baby. Better than anything I've ever
felt, love you more than life, Scully, all of you, so much..."  I
bent my head and pressed my face between her breasts, finally
slipping inside her - at last allowing Johnson to meet Harriet. 
Inside, where it was tight and so very hot, melting over me, piercing
through me.  I plunged and we both gasped; Scully clenched around me
and her arms were strong as they held me, closer than our skins.

And then, those words, moaned into my shoulder, words I'd begged to
hear.  "Don't stop, never stop, never leave me, wanted you inside me,
waited so long it's been so long..."  Low, rough and choppy, what she
said humbled me, healed me, made me so strong I felt I could move
mountains.  I fisted both hands in her hair, locked eyes with her,
melded souls with her... and found my true identity as I loved Dana
Scully, and in turn let myself be loved, by her.

It had to last a lifetime, I needed to thrust forever, make us both
climb peak after peak, didn't ever want to come down, come out,
come... not yet.  Just a little longer, this first meeting of flesh,
deeper, harder, faster, slower... Now pounding, then shallow thrusts,
easy and tender... then long, luxurious, to-the hilt moves that stole
our breath and made us ache. Circling, stabbing, penetrating - God,
it was perfect.  She matched my every move, stayed right with me,
clinging tightly.  Nothing had ever felt so right; no one had ever
given to me the way she did.  Nobody ever would, she was it for me,
the end of my searching and the beginning of my future.  Mine,
forever -

"Mine."  I growled it into her mouth as I kissed her.  "Mine, you're
mine, Scully..."  As if she didn't understand or acknowledge what
we'd discovered here, in this bed.  She gasped it right back at me as
I drove both of us up and up, until she cried out and shuddered and
convulsed. Until she came apart in my arms and the sound of my name
on her tongue was enough to shove me right over the edge with her. 
Hotter than a flash fire, I let it engulf me, falling into her,
spilling myself inside her, bathing her, cleansing us both.

***************

The room had darkened to dim twilight when I awoke.  I ached all
over in muscle groups that hadn't seen action in years.  I was
exhausted, dehydrated, felt like I'd been on a three-day drunk... and
I was so idiotically happy that I could have shouted aloud. That
wouldn't have been the best idea, since Scully was curled in my arms,
still deeply asleep, warm body tangled with mine and damp lips
pressed into my neck.  We'd fallen into a state of complete
unconsciousness almost immediately, able to accomplish little more
than a few tender kisses and shared whispers of love. 

In the dim room I could make out the curve of her body as it nestled
against mine, the way her leg rested over my thighs and the fling of
her arm across my chest.  Boneless and soft in my arms, limp and damp
and smelling like heaven.  Her hair teased at my chin and I let it
tickle me, unwilling to move one sore muscle to readjust either of
us.  If I never had to move again it would be just fine with me.

To think we could have meandered through several more weeks, days or
hours never knowing this feeling.  Still stepping carefully around
each other, keeping it light and gentle; keeping it vanilla when both
of us lusted for the richest and choicest chocolate.  

Crazy in love with Scully... it made me smile inside and out, to
think of it.  All my life I'd wanted love; the love of my sister,
forever lost to me.  The love of parents who never quite knew what to
do with me and consequently lost me, years ago.  The love of a good
woman, a strong and nurturing life-mate who would be everything to
me.  A few times in my past I thought I'd found her, only to have my
youthful ideals crushed and ground underfoot.  I spent years thinking
I'd never meet her and then more years loving in silence, when she
finally came into my life and in my eagerness to have her with me in
any form I let a partnership and friendship rule my heart.

Now love was in charge... and I liked it; loved it, would never live
another day without it.  This was a vow I could easily make, as I lay
in my damp bed with the woman I cherished asleep next to me.

I was roused from my happy musings by a small hand that slid over my
abdomen and curled around my penis.  My sigh was accompanied by a
resurgence of renewed strength and vigor to an organ that I would
have sworn two minutes ago was dead to the world for at least several
more hours.  

A soft caress and a sleep-laden voice made me tighten even more. 
"Hey, Johnson... Harriet wants an audience with you."  

I looked down at the tousled head on my shoulder just as Scully
raised her face to mine and grinned drowsily at me.  I turned on my
side and cupped her curvy little cheeks, snuggling her closer, her
hand trapped between us.  Face to face on the same pillow, I searched
her eyes for any tiny speck of regret and found only acceptance and
love in those baby blues of hers.  

I cleared my throat, easing words past the lump of emotion clogging
my vocal chords.  "You have Johnson's unending attention, baby.  I
feel I can speak for him since Harriet just about wore him down to a
nubbin."

"A nubbin?  My, how you malign your boy, Mulder.  I'll have you know
that here in my hand Johnson makes for much more than just a nubbin. 
More like a rod.  A warm, thick, pulsing rod..."

My entire body clenched up at her words.  Calling my penis a 'rod'
was compliment enough... but embellish it with 'warm' and 'thick' -
and pulsing, no less -  well, suffice to say Johnson was grinning
from nut to nut.

And suddenly I wasn't exhausted and sore; suddenly my muscles felt
great.  I rolled my woman underneath me, thrilled at the notion that
she was indeed my woman - and as I kissed her, as I pressed our
respective body parts together, felt them merge together, let them
take the lead... Johnson found himself reacquainted with Harriet, big-
time.

Oh, yeah... life was so damned good.

End


I really did have fun doing this sequel, so to everyone who poked
the crap outta me:  Thanks!

And thanks for reading!  Email me anytime, you know I'd love hearing
from you!  char@chaffin.com

My stories have their own split-level site!  Come and visit -
http://char.chaffin.com