Breaking the Curse

[This story contains oral sex, MF, MFF, FF sex. No anal, no bondage, no cheating, no BDSM, and no animals were hurt or injured in the writing of this story. No religions are defamed or mentioned. If you are looking for any of the things that aren't in this story you will be disappointed. If you might like a story about people meeting and beginning something together, you might like this story. Your comments and votes are appreciated.]

I was cursed. Not by the evil witch of the mountains or some wizard living in a cave somewhere. I was cursed by my own parents. I am their first child. They named me after my mother's favorite cousin. What they either didn't know or didn't care about was that he hated his name.

He hated it for the same reason that I hate it. It is one of those names that when someone hears it they assume it is the name of a girl! I'm not a girl! My parents named me Melessa. Mom said that because it wasn't spelled with an I in the middle it wasn't a girl's name. She probably even believed it.

On the first day of high school I thought I had finally found a benefit to having the name. Each student was given a printed official program. It told each of us what classes we had and where we had each of our seven classes. I had gym third period. Girl's Gym. So, at the right time, I followed a crowd of girls into the girl's locker room. I found out that two things were immediately true. Number one, no one gets undressed in the girl's gym on the first day. Number two, you can be officially in the right place and still be wrong.

That was as close as I got to finding a benefit to having a girl's name.

Everything else about my name was negative. I couldn't get people to call me Mel. I think that was because whenever either of my parents used my name they used Melessa.

When I went in the service I discovered that most people don't use their first name. On the uniform you wear a name tag. It lists only your last name. I didn't have any trouble except at mail call. I finally bribed the guy who delivered the mail to call out "Peterson" instead of "Melessa Peterson."

I also discovered that people in the military get nicknames. Mine was easy and I liked it. My uniform said "PETERSON" on it. I became "Pete."

Most of my life got better. Once in a long while I would need to deal with the first name problem but for most of the time "Pete" was good enough.

When I travel I have problems with my name. Security at the airports looks at my boarding pass and becomes suspicious. They need to see picture identification and then they are still suspicious. I have often wondered if they think someone would pick a name like Melessa in order to be invisible.

Once, having the name stopped being a curse. Once. I was traveling back from Europe headed to California. It was winter. We landed at JFK in New York and the connecting flight, non-stop to Los Angeles, left me waiting at JFK for six hours. The storm that was arriving at JFK at the same time I did threatened to close JFK in a few hours. I changed flights and got a flight to Denver. The ticketing person assured me Denver was now behind the storm and everything would be great. I would connect in Denver for a flight to LAX. She booked my tickets and I was off.

Four hours bouncing through the storm later, I was in Denver. I had been told the truth and told a lie. Yes, the storm that was in New York had passed and was no longer in Denver. No, everything wasn't great.

A new storm was five miles out of Denver and all westbound flights had just been cancelled. Instead of being stuck in New York I was stuck in Denver. The airlines treated us, the passengers, well. They arranged for us to stay at nearby hotels for the night. They apologized for any inconvenience this might cause. They also said that because the hotel would be full they might need to double up some passengers.

We rode a bus to the hotels. Actually there were lots of busses. At the hotel we were told that passenger lists for flight 2250 had been sent ahead and rooms assigned. The desk person would call out our name and give us a key for our room. It was done alphabetically by last name. The only time they used a first name was when more than one passenger had the same last name. When they got to my name she said, "M. Peterson." I stepped forward and took the plastic key in a paper folder. Printed on the cover it said: "M. Peterson."

As I walked away from the desk another desk person announced that by showing our key in the dining room we would be able to have dinner on the airline. Many people went to the dining room. I took my bag up to my room and put my bag on the bed closest to the heat source in the room. The room had two queen sized beds so I figured I probably would get a roommate.

Downstairs, I joined lots of others in the dining room. Soon the people coming in were given a smaller and smaller menu because the kitchen was running out of some selections from the bigger menu. An announcement was made that all rooms with more than one bed would have both beds being used.

I was sitting at a table with three other passengers. One other man and two women. One of the women said, "Oh this could be exciting. Maybe I'll get a man for a roommate!"

The other woman said, "Don't be nutty, Carla. They'll assign rooms by gender."

I smiled and thought, "Yes, and they'll get our gender by looking at our names." My smile got bigger.

Carla caught my smile and said, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I'm a single man. I've been traveling for three weeks on business. I have been in at least ten different hotels and in every one of them what I've missed is someone to share the bed with. If they give me a woman roommate I will not complain."

"She'll have her own bed." The man at our table said.

I looked at him briefly and then back at Carla. "If you get assigned to a room with a man will you try to change rooms?"

"I don't think so. If he's good looking, I might order champagne from room service."

We finished our meals and left the dining room. There were new people waiting for our table. I thanked my tablemates for their conversation and headed for the gift shop. I bought a couple diet Cokes and a snack. I figured I could have them as I watched TV in my room. As I was leaving the gift shop the radio news announced that Denver airport was closed and did not anticipate reopening for forty-eight hours. I went back in the gift shop, bought three magazines, a six pack of diet Coke, and six bags of various snacks.

I slid the key into the door of my room and the light flashed green. I opened the door, wondering if I was still alone or if my roomie had arrived.

Carla was sitting on the other bed, shoes off, propped up on the bed with both her pillows. When she saw me she smiled and said, "Bette is gonna shit!"

"Bette is the other woman we had dinner with?" I was smiling and putting my bag of stuff on the table.

"Yes. When we got to her room she opened the door and was greeted by a woman in her eighties."

"I'm older than I look. Now that this is a reality do you want me to call the desk and see about a room transfer?"

"Too late. I looked in your suitcase. I know I shouldn't have but I'm naturally snoopy sometimes and I looked. I saw men's clothes, a man's shaving kit, and six condoms. I knew you were a man. I called and was told that we could not switch rooms unless we found others willing to do so. They were not going to be able to help."

"Ok. I'm certainly not going to complain. By the way, people call me Pete."

"Carla. On your luggage tag it says M. Peterson. I understand that lots of men named Peterson are called Pete. What does the "M" stand for?"

"A name I hate. I told her the story and then told her my name. She didn't smile, laugh or make some other comment. She said, "I like Pete. It suits you."

"A lot better than Melessa." I let her know the forecast and what goodies I brought for us to share. She said that since we were going to be there for two days we might as well get comfortable. She had unpacked before I arrived. I unpacked and while I was doing that she grabbed some things and went into the bathroom. I heard the shower start and had a mental image of her standing under the hot stream of water with soap on her breasts. I had noticed at dinner that she was nicely put together. Not "D" sized, but plenty for enjoyment.

I finished unpacking and noticed that the condoms she had seen were no longer in my suitcase. I picked up the bag of snacks and put the diet Cokes in the mini-bar. I opened the drawer between the two beds to put the chips in there and saw the condoms. This lady intended to join me in some fun! She had stated her intentions downstairs and once again by her placement of my condoms where they would be easy to find.

I put my dop kit by the door to the bathroom and sat on my bed. The shower was still running.

"Pete!" Her voice called from inside the bathroom.

"Yes?"

"Could you help me, please?"

"How?"

"First, by coming in here."

I opened the door and was greeted by a cloud of steam. I closed the door so the cooler air wouldn't get to Carla.

"I need someone to scrub my back. Would you be willing?"

She was standing in the shower facing away from me. My first real look at her had her exposed from her feet to her head and I felt something in my slacks move on it's own. Her skin looked really good. Her ass looked like she was a teenager. Tight, muscled and firm.

"Pete?"

"Right. I am willing to wash your back but only on one condition, I also get to wash your front."

"I've already washed my front, shaved my underarms, legs and pussy but if you want to make sure I did a good job, Ok by me." She turned around and I sat down on the toilet. She was beautiful! I know my mouth was hanging open.

"Pete! Get undressed! You have two days to look at me, touch me and whatever else we can think of. Right now I want us both clean."

I didn't need to be told again. I stripped and joined her under the water. She handed me the bar of soap and turned her back to me. I soaped her from the neck down, slowly and massaging as I soaped. When my hands got to her ass she bent forward a little and pushed her ass back at me. My hard cock pressed between her ass cheeks and she said, "Not yet! Soon, but not yet."

My hands caressed her ass and she held the cheeks apart so I could easily get between and wash her pucker. I'd been married once to a woman who never let me touch her there and this woman who I'd know less than four hours held her cheeks apart for me!

From my knees I washed her legs. She spread her legs and I did a good job. She had done a good job shaving. I didn't feel and stubble. She turned around to face me before I got back up. I was face to face with her pussy. Right at the top of her slit I saw a small gold ring piercing her clitoral hood.

"Do you like my ring?"

"Yes, I think I do."

"I got it while I was in Amsterdam last year. If you kiss it, you will be the first man to do so."

I did more than kiss it! I lifted her leg up and put her foot on the edge of the tub. I sucked on the ring gently and then ran my tongue down into her slit. When I discovered her own wetness, it tasted wonderfully. I spent lots of time eating her and returning to her ring. When she began to quiver she grabbed my head and moaned. She thrust and ground her puss against my face until she came.

She moaned, froze and then trembled as the orgasm subsided. I stood up and kissed her, knowing I tasted like her own pussy. She joined me in the kiss with enthusiasm.

When the kiss ended she took the soap and washed me. She didn't hurry, she didn't miss anything. She was very careful to gently scrub my cock, balls and ass. Then she sucked in my cock and blew/sucked me until I unloaded in her mouth. It was incredible!

We got out, dried off and went back into the bedroom. We faced two beds and she said, "Your place or mine?"

"How about the floor between?"

"Later. Come to my place first."

"I'd be honored."

We pulled the sheets and covers down and got on the bed. Not in the bed. On the bed. In the bed is for sleeping and snuggling. On the bed is for more athletic activities. The sharing of body fluids. Sometimes on the bed is for creating children. Carla and I were not there for that! I'm fixed. I've had plenty of cum since the surgery so I know I'm empty. Shooting blanks. I still love shooting. I still wear condoms when I shoot, especially when I shoot and I'm not in my home gallery. Carla wasn't my home gallery, mostly because I didn't have one at that time.

I brought the little bottle of skin lotion out of the bathroom with me and when we were on the bed I opened it.

"May I apply lotion to you?" I asked.

"That would be nice. You want the front or the back first?"

"It's your body, you choose."

She flipped so she was face down and I started applying lotion to her feet and lower legs. Earlier in my life I had studied massage so I really did work the lotion in as I applied it. When I finished with her feet I leaned from her bed to the thermostat and turned up the heat. I didn't want her getting cold. Relaxed, but not cold.

I moved back to her legs and worked her thighs. I found a tender spot and when I touched it the first time she said, "I backed into a conference table."

In the bathroom I soaked a hand towel in the hottest water I could get from the sink. I brought it back to the bed with two other dry towels. I put a dry towel on her leg, the hot moist towel and then a dry one over the others. It warmed and relaxed in just a couple minutes. As the heat worked there I moved up a little and massaged her butt. She opened her legs a little. After a minute I gently probed her pussy with a mostly lotion dry finger.

"Oh, that's friendly." She said, in a low voice.

My hands got more lotion and moved up to her back. I noticed a half inch scar just above her hip on the right side. It looked like an old scar, maybe from childhood.

"That scar is unusual."

"My sister stabbed me when I was in second grade. It was just bad enough to scar."

"Remind me not to make her mad at me."

"If she finds out we're in bed together that will be enough for her to be mad at you, until she gets you in bed with her."

"A little competitive?"

"Yes! She was two when I was born and hated all the attention I got. She still believes it should have been just her."

"That feeling is common, I'm told."

"When I feel the scar in the shower it reminds me not to turn my back on her."

"Right."

I lifted the warm towels from her leg and gently massaged the offended muscle. I felt it relax some and so I applied more lotion and slowly worked it some more. The bruise did surface and I knew it would look bad for a few days, but it didn't hurt her as badly as before.

I rolled her over and had her sit up. I sat behind her, letting her lean against me as my legs all but surrounded her. I applied lotion to her shoulders and neck. Worked it in and released at least three days tension from those muscles. When I applied lotion to her arms she said, "I really thought we would be fucking by now."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No. Surprised, but not disappointed. Most men go for getting off and roll over. You are hard so I know you're interested but you've had your hands on me for almost an hour and you've only touched my cunt twice."

"The women who taught me how to love a woman taught me that if I take care of her she will have the best possible experience. When she does she'll share it with me. I believed them."

"Bless them."

My hands worked lotion onto her chest. As I massaged her C-cup breasts I paid attention to her reactions. At the touch of my palms to her nipples they tightened and became the swollen size of blueberries. She moaned. She leaned back against me and relaxed some more. When I pinched her nipples and pulled them just a little she squeezed her thighs together just enough for me to notice.

Carla leaned her head back and against my shoulder. I folded her arms across her chest and held them with my arms. She was totally supported, warm, relaxed and breathing like she was about to go to sleep.

I turned my head slowly until my mouth was near her ear. As softly as I could I whispered, "Could we get in the bed, snuggle and comfort each other until morning and then join?"

"Join?" She whispered.

"Yes. I seldom fuck. I'd much rather connect with you. Join with you. That it's for two days isn't a good reason to treat you like a place for me to masturbate. I want to savor the feel of you, the taste of you, the sounds you make, the smell of your arousal and your juices. Joining is creating memories to be savored again later, when neither of us is in Denver."

"Then cover us, shut off the lights and treat me like that. No man ever has."

Gently I moved her so her head was on a pillow and I covered her. With the lights off I opened the drapes and we could watch the snow silently falling outside. Our room was warm. I spooned up behind her, held her and fell asleep.

She woke up first. I'm sure of that because when I woke up she had my cock in her mouth. It not only looked good, it felt good too. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at my face. She slowly tantalized me, explored me and seemed to enjoy the appreciative sounds I made.

When I was as hard as she wanted me to be she released her lip lock on my shaft and kissed her way up to my face.

"Can I interest you in joining with me?"

"You have my interest." I kissed her. Our tongues met and danced. Our hands helped each other move into a joining position. As she moved she rolled a condom onto me. She chose to be on her side and lift one leg, opening her puss to me. I straddled her leg and moved close to her.

She grasped my cock and rubbed the head along her open lips, wetting it and stimulating her clit. I pressed forward and she aligned us for an easy insertion. All of this action while we looked in each other's eyes.

How I kept from hurrying into her is still a mystery to me. I did enter her slowly, in a half inch or so, and out. Back in, just a bit farther, and back out. Finally I was pressed against her body as well as being buried inside her. I held still.

"If we're counting strokes does that count as one?" She smiled.

"Count any way you wish. If you're counting, my goal will be to have you lose count."

"One."

With care, I moved back and forth and caressed the leg I held against my chest. I ran my hands down her leg to her puss and touched her clit each time I got there. After doing that for a while I let go of her leg and held her breasts.

"Pull my nipples."

I pinched her nipples, not between my thumb and first finger tip but catching the bud between my thumb and the side of my first finger. As I increased pressure her back arched a little. Her head pressed into the pillow a little farther than before.

"18." She announced.

I smiled. My hips increased the pace and soon she announced thirty, as she counted each stroke. I started making strokes of varied depths, one very shallow, three deep, three somewhere in between. My left thumb found her clit and rubbed it gently each time I went deep into her with my cock.

"Fifty-two, fifty-three." I touched her clit. "Fifty four." I stroked in twice while holding my thumb against her clit. "Fifty-four."

I smiled and turned her on her stomach. I pulled her to the edge of the bed and then I helped her legs bend and go under her. She was lying on top of her folded legs and I was behind her. A position I call the praying puppy. If she went up on her knees it would be doggy, but she was too small to be doggy.

"Oh God! Pete, if you go any deeper I'll choke!"

My hands held her hips and I slammed in hard and deep.

"Again!"

She repeated herself many times and I complied each time. I could feel the juices building up pressure in me. An eruption was about to happen. She sensed it and said, "Give me all of it! I want it all!"