Well I went and did it again. I got involved in yet another interactive fan fiction story. This time, my character was paired with Richie (much more to my liking). That story wrapped in early November 2008, and I had been asked to assemble the "story posts", that is, the posts that tell Richie and Jen's story, in one place for people to read.

So I'm doing it.

I'm having to add some filler as I go, as there were lengthy pauses between the verbose posts I made, but I'm trying to keep the flow of the story going.

The Richie/Jen story is only half of the fan fic project. The other half was a Jon/T story. That is not explored here at all. In fact, very little mention is made. Just enough so it isn't a surprise when T shows up at various points.

If anything is confusing, please let me know. I've been living this character for the better part of the last eight months, and her memories are mine. I forget, sometimes, that you all can't see into my head.

I hope you enjoy the story. It starts here.

~ Hath

Photo Shoot

Monday, December 28, 2009
Richie was good to his word, and the next morning, the buzz at the front gate was Vincent, the driver Richie had hired for the week. Jennifer had to laugh at the monstrous stretch Humvee coming up the driveway. She certainly was going to make a statement arriving at work in THAT. Vincent was an older gentleman, very kind, and was there bright and early with a Diet Coke on ice for her. Jennifer laughed. Richie thought of everything.

Wednesday night, Jennifer couldn’t believe her eyes when Vincent handed her a large, flat box as she got to the car. When she carefully untied the wide, red ribbon and lifted the lid, Vincent had to keep her from sagging to the ground. Inside the box was a gorgeous silver gown. With shaking hands, she took it out of the box and held it up. It was a Goddess gown with an empire waist drape detail in crepe satin and chiffon. It had thin clear straps and a modest neckline, and it was absolutely gorgeous.

Under the gown was a note written in Richie’s strong, masculine scrawl.
Hi, baby...

I hope you’ll take a picture in THIS and let me see it...

I would love you to wear this on our “date” on Friday. In fact, Vincent will have a special surprise for you in the Hummer so you can see me and I can see you – I’d love to actually see you in the dress. Any chance you would be willing to change at work before leaving for the day?

I miss you and love you, and can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.

~ Rich

When she got home, she read the note for the umpteenth time. She’d absolutely change into the gown for him, but she wouldn’t be all made up and coiffed like she would if they were going out. Smiling, she took out her cell phone and hit a button on her speed-dial.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked her best friend, Krissy.

Krissy just laughed. “And good evening to you too, Jen.”

“Ha ha ha, very funny. Good evening, Ms. Krissy. Do you have plans for the evening?”

“Yeah,” her friend chuckled, “and so do you. We were going to the restaurant, remember?”

“About that...wanna help me with a project instead?” Jennifer was a little nervous, but she and Krissy had shared everything about each other over the dozen or so years they’d been friends, and she knew her friend wouldn’t judge her.

“Ooh, what kind of project?”

Jennifer told her about the dress Richie had sent her, and the picture request, and what she wanted to do. Krissy was enthusiastic about helping, and promised to be over within the hour. Jennifer took a shower and partially dried her hair, and had applied her foundation when Krissy let herself into the house.

“HELLO!” she called from the foyer.

“UPSTAIRS!” Jennifer yelled back.

Krissy came into the room and gave Jennifer a big hug. “You ready to get beautiful?” she asked, smiling.


After pouring two glasses of white wine, Krissy worked on Jennifer’s hair, setting it in wide rollers while Jennifer applied her eye makeup. She had thickened her lashes with mascara, and tinted the lids with a vibrant coppery hue. She inserted clear lenses so her gray eyes would pick up the sheen from the gown, then lined her lower lid with Kohl. A coppery lipstick and pale peach blusher completed her makeup. The look was very dramatic and Jennifer smiled.

Amid much chatter and laughing, Krissy finished setting the rollers, then took out a small case from her bag. She had a set of tiny tweezers and a little tube of glue, and an acrylic box of sparkly body art. She laid out a pattern around Jennifer’s eyes with an eyeliner pencil, then carefully glued the dazzling jewels into place. A half hour later, Jennifer stared at her reflection in the mirror. Fat, glossy curls hung around her shoulders and were teased a little to give her hair body. Her makeup was flawless, and she was ready to get dressed.

She dropped the robe to reveal a flesh colored lace thong and fuzzy bedroom slippers. Krissy laughed at her. “Nice ensemble, Jen.”

Jennifer chuckled. “Shut up and help me with my dress,” she said. “And here,” she tossed the bra at Krissy. “Take this with you... for the next picture,” she said.

Careful not to muss the artistry the two women had created, they eased the gown over Jennifer’s head and settled it around her body. It fit her beautifully, the chiffon floating around her, and the crepe fabric drape making her look taller. What made Jennifer happiest was that it completely hid her brace, and you couldn’t tell from looking at her that she was wearing bedroom slippers. She looked longingly at her closet, where she knew she had the most perfect Ferragamo stiletto sandals, but she knew she couldn’t. Well shouldn’t at any rate. Soon though, she vowed.

“Where do you want to take the picture?” Krissy asked, distracting Jennifer from lusting after her shoes.

The women decided to go down to the pond on the back forty, and position Jennifer so you couldn’t see any of the buildings on the property. The sun was low in the sky, and there was a light breeze that teased her hair, blowing it gently toward the camera. Krissy fired of a barrage of photos, having Jennifer carefully turn this way or that. The best shot was one of Jennifer looking over the water, her arm raised to shield her eyes; the diamonds of her bracelet and the jewels around her eyes catching the sun. “That’s the one,” Krissy breathed, when they scrolled through the photos together.

“He will die,” Jennifer said, smiling. “And I can send it to the girls after, too.”

“Where do you want to do the other one?”

Jennifer blushed. “For sure, inside. I’m not that adventurous, even with no close neighbors.”

“I’ve read your stuff, Jen, and uh, yeah, you are.”

“No,” Jennifer corrected, “Hath is. I’m just her conduit.”

“Yeah well, channel her now, ‘cause outside on that chaise,” she indicated a wrought-iron chaise in the garden, “would be perfect, and if he died seeing this picture of you in the gown, the other will most certainly revive him and kill him again.”

The women walked toward the bench, and Krissy helped Jennifer get the gown up over her head. A cool breeze was blowing, and Jennifer instinctively covered her breasts with her hands. Krissy smiled and snapped a photo.

“What are you doing?”

“Killing Richie Sambora,” she said, shaking her head. “You have to send that one to him.”

“Gimme my bra,” Jennifer answered. When Krissy complied, Jennifer tucked herself into it then sat on the bench. With four rasps of Velcro, the brace was unfastened, and tossed aside. Jennifer arranged her legs so her left was straight, and the other bent at the knee. Her arms were arranged on top of her head, and she looked away from the camera, smiling.

“Nice, Jen,” Krissy said. “Now look like you’re heartbroken that Richie isn’t here.”

“That won’t be hard,” Jennifer said wryly, and relaxed her features. She remembered back to the airport on Friday, and Krissy nearly wept at the look on her friend’s face. Jen had certainly fallen hard, and the love and longing in her expression showed it.

“Now,” Krissy said softly, “don’t move.” She circled around to take a full-frame picture of her face. The edge of the bracelet hung over her forehead and some of her curls were blowing up around her cheeks. “Damn, Jen,” she said.

Back in the house, the girls loaded the pictures to Jennifer’s computer and went through them. They selected several to send to Richie, including the full-frame face. Her unmasked eyes very clearly showed Richie that she missed him and loved him and longed for him.

“I hope he likes them,” Jennifer said with an out-of-place tremor in her voice.

“Honey, if he doesn’t, then it’s because he’s been struck blind. Hell, I’m halfway turned on.”

Jennifer burst out laughing. “I so do NOT swing for pink, sweetie,” she said, “though I will give you a kiss.” Krissy touched her lips to Jen’s briefly in the way that girlfriends do.

“Hungry?” Krissy asked.


The girls shared a pizza, laughing and talking until close to eleven. “Shit, look at the time,” Krissy said. “I have to go. This was fun,” she added.

“Thanks for helping me,” Jennifer said.

“Send the pictures,” Krissy admonished.

When her friend left, Jennifer went back up stairs to her computer. She composed an email to Richie and attached several of the pictures including the bare-breasted one and the close-up of her face.
FROM: TheGoddessHathor@gmail.com
TO: UndiscoveredStranger@gmail.com
Subject: Hey, Baby...

Hey Rich, baby, thanks so much for the gown. And yeah, you can have a picture (see attached). What the hell do you and Vincent have planned so you can see me? But yes, I can dress for you for Friday. I won’t look as good as I do in these photos, though. Trust me.

Hope you’re having fun at home, and tell Ava I miss her!

Love you,
~ Jen

PS, I really miss you too. That’s why I sent the OTHER attachments.... Love you
When Richie’s email pinged, he was ecstatic to see it was Jen. When he opened the email and read it, he smiled. Excellent. She’d be dressed up. He couldn’t wait. Then he saw all the attachments. There were four of them. The first one he opened made him suck in a breath. It was Jennifer in the gown, all made up standing by the water, shading her eyes. It looked like she was looking for someone, and her eyes held a touch of sadness. Richie touched the screen before he gave himself a shake.

The second photo he opened was the close-up of Jennifer’s face. He let out a long whistle and just stared. Quickly, he forwarded that photo to Jon with a simple note – “I’m one lucky sonofabitch.”

Heart pounding, he opened the next picture, and nearly fell out of his chair. There she was, reclining on a chaise, looking distracted and radiant. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her arms, raised over her head, down her neck to the barely-there bra that showed almost all of her starburst tattoo, across her toned abdomen and “his” tattoo, down across her hips and over the miles of leg. He frowned a little when he saw both her legs were naked, but got distracted by the last unopened photo.

Hands shaking, he double-clicked the little icon, and this time, leaned so close to the screen that the chair rolled out from under him, and he hit his chin on the desk. There she was, his Jennifer, standing in front of a garden with nothing on but her thong and a smile. Her hands were covering her up, but he could see the gooseflesh raised on her arms, and her hair was blowing all around her, so he knew it was windy, and she must have been chilly.

He stared at the picture for a good long while. Then he signed out of his email and picked up the phone. “Oh my GOD,” he said to her when she answered.

“So you got my pictures, then?” Jennifer answered, yawning widely.

“I sure did, and nearly bit my tongue off with that last one.” He was going to skip the question but had to ask. “Who took the pictures? They came out really good.”

Yeah, sure, Jennifer thought. THAT’S why you’re asking. “My best friend took them. She helped me with my hair and the glittery things around my eyes, too.”

“Well, you’ll have to thank her for me,” Richie said, not missing the bigger yawn that Jennifer made. “Baby, are you sleeping?”

“Not well,” Jennifer admitted. “I got used to sleeping with you I guess,” she said, trying for a light tone. “Also, I had some early days this week, and another early one tomorrow, so I’m wiped.”

“OK,” Richie said, disappointed. “Well, I guess I can let you go. Though I don’t want to.”

“So don’t,” Jennifer said. “I’ll put you on speaker, and you can talk to me until I fall asleep. I miss your voice,” she said, tears starting to clog her throat.

“I miss you too. I’ll be able to see you on Friday, though, and I’m not telling what Vincent and I have planned. That’d ruin it. Just suffice it to say, we figured out a way that you’ll be able to see me, and I’ll be able to see you.”

“I’m gonna be all dressed up,” Jennifer said, “are you?”

“Absolutely,” Richie said. He heard her moving around as she got ready for bed. The sound of running water, the setting of the alarm clock, flipping of light switches, and the rustle of bedclothes. “Are you in bed now?”

“Yep,” Jennifer said sleepily. “Before I forget, have fun with Stephanie tomorrow.” Steph was flying out to LA to visit with some of the California girls from the board, and Richie insisted she let him take her for lunch, and that she should wear her hair up. He had also lowered his voice seductively, and asked her to wear bubblegum lip gloss. It took all of 10 seconds for him to convince her to have lunch, and she and Jennifer had laughed over Richie’s other demands.

“Just do it,” Jennifer had said. “I bet you’d shock the hell out of him.” Steph agreed.

“I will have fun, baby, but I’ll miss you,” Richie promised.

He started talking to her about his day, and what he and Ava had been doing, and about T and Jon’s upcoming wedding, and before long he heard her steady breathing and knew she was asleep.

“Jennifer, darlin’, I want nothing more than to have you here with me right now,” he said. “I miss you so much my soul aches. I love you sweetheart, and will talk to you tomorrow.”

Didn't Mean To Miss Your Birthday

Monday, December 21, 2009
By the end of the month, Jennifer still didn’t feel any better, and hadn’t come to any decisions about what to do with her future. Richie had been able to jet out for a few days in the middle of September, but they didn’t talk about “where do we go next”. In fact, they didn’t talk too much about anything, they just enjoyed being with each other. He’d been home for more than a week, and she still felt bereft.

Jennifer thought that the busyness of work would keep her mind off Richie, but it didn’t. She was mooning and pouting and finally so disgusted with herself, she sought out one of her friends to give her a reality check. She logged onto the board and chatted which helped, and she was able to get some of her backlog of work done. Jen spent a good deal of time whining to Stephanie about Richie, but once she got all the “poor me” out of her system, she felt loads better. Smiling, she said her goodbyes and logged off the board.

Minutes later, her email pinged. Stephanie wrote her, offering to come out and help her out of her funk. A funk, Jen thought, that she should be able to get herself out of alone. A funk she just had to shut up and get over. There was absolutely no reason for her to be so upset and distracted. Jen wrote back that it wasn’t necessary, but if she didn’t feel better by the weekend, she would take her friend up on the offer.

Smiling, she closed that message, and stared, slack-jawed at the one that had just arrived. It was from her ex-husband. She was tempted to read it, to see what he wanted, but if it was anything she needed to deal with (though she had no earthly idea what that could possibly be) he could get in touch with her through her lawyer. It felt good to click the little ‘x’ to delete the message without reading it, and tried to put him out of her mind, but Jen couldn’t help the direction her thoughts took.

In the beginning, things with her ex-husband were really good. The couple would go to dinner, to the theater, out with friends, or just hang out together. Their sex life was good, great actually, and they were always willing to try new things; always in synch with each other. Then, about two years before they split, things changed.

He started working late, and “forgetting” to call. She knew he was working on a new account, so cut she him some slack. Then came the business trips that came with his promotion. A few days here and there, then all of a sudden there was a week-long conference in Arizona. He didn’t call all week, claiming to be too busy. They traded emails and IMs, but they were impersonal and cold. When he was finally home, her ex was also impersonal and cold. They grudgingly went out with friends, and put on a good show for them, but behind closed doors, things were hard. They were roommates inhabiting the same house, but each of them had their own lives. The time apart became easier and easier to bear, and Jennifer actually started looking forward to when he would go away.

She tried to tell herself that it was her ex’s shortcomings, not hers that were the problem. She knew though, that she gave him the power to hurt her when she got too wrapped up in him, and she must share some of the blame, after all, she was in that marriage, too.

When Jennifer found out he was cheating on her, she wasn’t really surprised. Hurt, sure, but not really surprised. What did surprise her was his feeling of entitlement. He felt entitled to the affair…and her money. He felt that it was her fault he had to go elsewhere for the tenderness and love he craved, and she should be so grateful to be rid of someone she obviously didn’t love, that she should gladly pay him off.

Not fucking likely.

She used a healthy portion of a year’s salary to pay for the winningest divorce lawyer in Massachusetts. Claudia Despres made sure that her ex got nothing but his clothes and fishing trophies. What was Jennifer’s stayed Jennifer’s. The court battle was long and harsh, and Jen couldn’t believe some of the things this man, someone who promised to love her forever, spewed hatefully through his own lawyer. Jen was so devastated by his betrayal, that she decided there in the courtroom, as her husband’s attorney told the court how she was a neglectful, hateful woman, that she was never going to let a man get that far under her skin, that far into her life, that his actions would dictate her emotions.

Then she met Rich.

Then she fell in love with him, and all her good intentions flew out the window. She didn’t tie her happiness to him, but she fell hard all the same, and was so wrapped up in him, that she found herself overly emotional at the little things he did or didn’t do, and it was driving her nuts.

Richie never gave her any reason to believe he was anything other than devoted to her. In word and in deed, he was utterly, completely smitten and in love with her. She knew that. It was the only thing that kept her from running screaming in fear from their relationship. She knew by the little gifts he sent, and the flowers and cards that showed up every couple of days, that he was still thinking of her, and going the extra mile for her.

Then her birthday came.

That was the week that Richie had come to visit her in Boston and Jen was over the moon. Before she could ask him what he had planned for her birthday, he told her that he had to leave the night before her birthday to do something for Heather. He didn’t even mention Jen’s birthday. The fact that Jennifer and his ex shared a birthday was something they joked about in Southampton, when David accused Richie of using Jennifer as a substitute for his ex. She had brought it up, remarking that it was something she and his ex had in common, and she joked that he had celebrated Heather’s birthday for a dozen years, he should be sure to remember hers.

It looked like she was wrong.

That was really what started her on her spiral. She didn’t say anything to Richie because she didn’t want to whine about something stupid. The absolute last thing Jennifer wanted to do was come off as a whiny, clingy dipshit.

She was startled out of her reverie by Dionne and friends. Keep shining, keep smiling / Knowing you can always count on me / For sure / That’s what friends are for

Jennifer laughed. “Hey Cheryl,” she said by way of answer. “Thanks for calling, you caught in the middle of a pity party, and I did NOT want to stay.”

“I just wanted to check in on you, sweetie. I read your posts on the board today, and you had a really BAD day.” Cheryl had spent some time on the board with Richie as well, and knew that Jen was going to need a sympathetic ear.
“So, spill, what did you get Jennifer for her birthday?” Cheryl PM’d to Richie on the board. “She isn’t offering anything. I asked her about your birthday visit, but she won’t spill any details.”

“Her birthday?” Richie sent back. When the hell was her birthday?

“Yes, silly, don’t play coy with me, I know she told you her birthday was the same as Heather’s, and it was last week. So...what did you get?”

Cheryl waited for long minutes with no response from Richie. “Oh shit,” she said out loud. Surely Richie didn’t forget? Maybe he did.

“Richie, did you forget Jen’s birthday?” she typed.

“Uh, yeah. Shit. Cheryl, I’m gonna call you.” Richie felt like dog shit. He was so concerned with making sure Ava got to do what she wanted with Heather that he completely forgot about Jen. Oh, this was not good.

“Why didn’t’ she say anything to me?” Richie demanded.

“You’re kidding, right?” Cheryl answered. “Have you met her? She’s not going to try to make you feel badly.”

Richie groaned. That made it worse. At least if she called him on it, he could be contrite and try to make it up to her. But now? She’s not even going to mention it? “God,” he said, “what can I do?”

“What’s your schedule like? All she really wants is just to see you.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Yeah, my day pretty much sucked, but I’m okay. Well not okay, but getting there. Steph offered to come out to drink with me, and let me cry on her,” Jennifer laughed, “but I’m not in that bad a way yet. You know, you guys are just wonderful, checking up on me like this.”

“Sweetie, we’re friends, that’s what we do – we help each other.” Cheryl smiled, thinking of the ‘help’ she gave Richie today.

“Well thank you,” Jennifer said, feeling better.

“Don’t even mention it,” Cheryl answered. “I just wanted to check in, make sure you were okay.”

“Like I said, I’m getting there,” Jennifer said. “I’m going to try to get my work done so I don’t have to work all night, then go home and try to relax.”

“Sounds good. You know you can call me anytime, right?” Cheryl asked.

“I know. Thanks. I love ya, girlfriend.”

“Right back atcha.”

That night, just about when Jennifer was ready for bed, her cell rang. Karen Carpenter’s beautiful voice singing through the room: I fell in love with you before the second show / Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear / But you're not really here it's just the radio…

Sniffling back a sob at the bittersweet words she chose for his ring tone, she cleared her throat and answered the phone.

“Hey, baby,” Jennifer said.

“Jennifer, darlin’, how are you?”

With a growl, Jennifer let go of almost all the bile that built up over past several days – she was still determined not going to whine about her birthday. Ava and her plans came first, she knew that. Jen told him every other little thing that pissed her off, from the horrendous trip into town, to losing her train pass, to the phantom deleted message from her ex, to the people who were acting like idiots at work. She was in desperate need of cheering up.

“Apparently, I’m such a basket case, that Stephanie was ready to come out this weekend to try to help me cheer up.”

“I wish it was me coming out there to cheer you up,” Richie said softly.

Jennifer agreed. “I just wish I’d snap out of the funk. I just miss you,” she said, then winced. She sounded whiny to her ears. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said.

“For missing me? Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “I’d be sorry if you didn’t miss me.”

“You know what I mean. I’m being silly. So tell me, how’s Ava?”

Richie shook his head. She still wasn’t going to say anything. Well, he’d fix the oversight soon enough. He chattered about his daughter for a few minutes, then took a deep breath. “Will you let me do something for you?” he asked.

Jennifer was surprised at the abrupt change of subject. Was he trying to get off the phone? “Uh, sure, I guess so, Rich. What is it?”

“Given your shit commute, and that you lost your train pass, will you let me hire you a car – just for the rest of the week. You need to be able to relax and not worry about the train or running late or driving home – I just want to pamper you a little.”

Jennifer was silent on the other end of the line. “That’s all it is? You just want me to relax?” she finally asked.

“Of course. That, and there MAY be a little surprise in the back seat for you tomorrow.”

Jennifer laughed. “What kind of surprise?”

“Well,” Richie said, “I was thinking we could have a sort of date on Friday night and I can send you a little something to bring to the date.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Jennifer asked.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Richie said. “What are you up to tonight?”

“I had some work to do, but I decided to bag it. I have yet another early morning India call and need to go get some sleep. You know,” Jennifer joked, “it would be easier if I just went to India for a month.”

“You aren’t going to do that, are you?” The thought of his Jen flying halfway around the world made his heart stop. He realized that was what she must feel like when he goes away. He didn’t like it at all.

“Not likely – not yet anyway. Probably not until February, if at all. We’ll see. Let me tell you, I’m going to need copious amounts of Valium and Xanax to get through a 17 hour flight.”

“Can you even find a doctor to prescribe that much? You’re better off getting up early.”

“Okay, if you say so. So, are you going to tell me about this surprise, or no?”

“Nope,” Richie said. “You are just going to have to wait and see.

“The car will be here for 5:30 tomorrow?”

“Yep,” Richie said. “Just tell the driver when you need him, and he’ll be there. He’s at your disposal every morning and afternoon all week.”

“You are the best, do you know that?” Jennifer was smiling the first real smile she made since he left.

“So I’ve been told,” Richie joked. “Alright, I’ll let you get some sleep, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“You sure will talk to me tomorrow,” Jennifer answered.

“Sounds like a good deal. Alright, baby,” Richie said, “I’ll talk to you later. I love you, you know.”

“I know, and I love you too.”

“Bye, darlin’.”

“Bye, Rich.”

Missing Richie

Tuesday, December 8, 2009
All too soon, it was time for Richie and his family to go home. A last-minute crisis at work meant that Jennifer had to go in instead of taking the day off as she had planned. The day was a royal bitch, and by four, the bulk of the problem was resolved, but there were a few pesky details still outstanding. Her boss, knowing that her boyfriend and family were leaving the next day, saw her check her watch for the three thousandth time and told her, “Just go. See you Monday.”

With a wave and a heartfelt ‘thanks’, Jennifer stumped her way to the elevator, white knuckled herself down the five stories to the lobby, and without thinking, hit the revolving door instead of the automatic door. She had a moment of panic when she realized what she’d done, but made it out without killing herself and berated herself for not paying closer attention.

She fidgeted the whole way home, anxious to get on with her evening. She rescued her car from the parking garage and pointed it home. Half an hour later, she was walking through the door. “Hello? I’m home!” she called, and was rewarded with the sound of running feet. Ava came into view and skidded to a stop in front of her.

“Hi Jen!” she said, taking Jennifer’s laptop from her and throwing her arms around the woman. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

“Me too,” Richie said, crossing to kiss his girl. “How was your day?”

“Long but over,” Jennifer said. “Let me go get changed, and we can get going.”

Richie scooped her up and carried her upstairs. “Who’s going to do this when you go home?” Jennifer lamented.

Richie laughed. “I guess you’ll have to sleep downstairs on the sofa,” he joked.

The four piled into the Tahoe and left for Ma’s house. They had a wonderful dinner, and when they were getting ready to head back, Richie was confused when Ava and his mother weren’t getting their stuff together. “C’mon,” he said. “We have packing to do.”

Joan smiled. “Ava and I are already packed, and we’re staying here tonight,” she said softly. “Go home and say your goodbyes.”

Richie smiled widely and kissed his mother’s cheek. “You’re the best,” he said.

When Richie and Jennifer got back to the house, the car was barely turned off before Richie was coming around the car to hoist Jennifer into his arms and stride into the house. He carried her upstairs, and deposited her on the bed. He started stripping off his clothes.

“What, no finesse?” Jennifer joked, as she pulled at her own clothing.

“Nope,” Richie said. “Not this first time.”

He waited about a half a second after Jennifer was naked before climbing onto the bed, crawling between her legs, and pushing himself into her to the hilt. He waited a minute until she accepted his presence in her body, then started to stroke her. Jennifer grabbed his shoulders and pulled so he was laying on her, relishing the feel of him on her. Richie groaned at the hard little pebbles of her nipples pressing into his chest, and kissed her hard, twining his tongue with hers. He heard and felt her breathing become more labored, shallower, and he sped up his motions. His heart was racing, and his pulse throbbing in his ears.

Jennifer wrapped her good leg around Richie’s waist, and pulled him in deep raising her hips to match his thrusts. She begged him to pound her harder and faster, and he obliged, sending her into a dizzying spiral of sensation that she never wanted to recover from. The clenching and rippling of her muscles sent Richie over the edge and he joined her on the fall. When he was spent, he gently rolled off her and pulled her close in next to him. He spent the next half an hour kissing her, devouring her mouth, and he was ready to go again.

This time, he finessed Jennifer, bringing her to orgasm several times before burying himself in her. They snoozed together, tangled in a sweaty heap on the bed, their breathing matched and even. When Richie woke to see Jennifer across the room with her laptop, he smiled. “Tell the girls goodnight and come here,” he said. “I think you need a little more loving.”

She obliged.

The next morning, Richie and Jennifer packed the car with suitcases that Joan and Ava had left by the door, and added Richie’s things. Jennifer thought she never saw a sadder sight than the cargo area of her Tahoe that morning. But she pasted on a bright smile, and they left to pick up the other travelers.

At Ma’s, there were hugs and tears, and promises to keep in touch. Joan was glad to find a kindred spirit in Jennifer’s mother, and Ava had taken to calling her Gramma Ma which sounded like she was putting on 19th century British airs, but which both ladies thought was precious. Jennifer waited until everyone was strapped in, and headed off to the airport.

The ride was quiet, and all too soon, they arrived at Logan. Jennifer dropped her passengers off with their luggage and left her car in short term parking. Making her way back to the terminal, she caught up with the others, and Richie put an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. Once the three had their tickets and were all checked in, Jennifer walked with them to the security checkpoint. A brief glance at the clock showed her that they had about half an hour until their flight was called.

“Richard, dear, I’ll take Ava on through,” Joan said. She took Jennifer’s hands. “It was wonderful to meet you, Jennifer. You and your family are wonderful, opening your lives and hearts to us. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Joan the pleasure was all mine,” Jennifer said. “Though I do wish Rich had told me you were coming.” The two women shared a laugh and a hug.

“Well Sundrop,” Jennifer said, turning to Ava, “I guess I’ll see you later. Have fun in school.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to start school, but I’m going to miss you.” Ava hugged Jennifer tightly, and tears sprang to Jen’s eyes. “Thank you for my room,” Ava said. “It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever had.”

“Well it’s yours for whenever you come to visit,” Jennifer said. “And I’ll miss you too. Who’s going to take my laptop from me when I get home in the evenings, and give me a big, giant hug?”

“And who’s going to sneak me lip gloss when Daddy won’t let me wear it?” she whispered, making Jennifer laugh.

“Check your bag,” Jennifer whispered back.

Jennifer watched Ava and Joan go through the security checkpoint, Ava chattering away like a little monkey. She turned to Richie, who was looking at her with a softness in his eyes that took her breath away. She silently went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and resting her head on his chest. Richie’s hands sifted through Jen’s hair and he bent to inhale her fragrance.

“Damn Jennifer, I’m going to miss you like crazy,” Richie said. He tilted her face up towards his and kissed her gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jennifer answered. “And I miss you already.” She was horrified to find tears stinging her eyes again. “I’m sorry,” Jen said, dashing the tears away.

“Don’t be sorry,” Richie said. “If it weren’t for the fact that I’m a big, tough man, I’d be bawling like a baby.” Jennifer laughed loudly at that, and planed a kiss on his chest, over his heart. “Darlin’,” he said, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know you will. I’m just being a silly female,” Jennifer answered. “Your daughter is waiting on you,” Jennifer said, nodding toward Ava, who was watching them intently, with a big smile on her face.

“I know,” Richie said. “I should probably go, but my feet don’t seem to want to move.”

“Mine either,” Jennifer admitted.

Richie laughed. “You mean foot and cane, right?”

Jennifer smacked Richie’s ass. “That was uncalled for, monkey-boy,” she chided, a smile creeping across her lips.

“Made you smile,” Richie said. Then he pulled her in for a long, slow kiss that had other travelers applauding and whistling at them. When they broke the kiss, Jennifer stepped back and used her thumb to wipe the lipstick from Richie’s face.

“You always make me smile,” she said. “Go. Travel safe, remember I love you, and call me when you get settled, okay?”

“I will, I love you too, and you’d better believe I’m calling you as soon as I can.” Richie kissed her again, hard and fast. “I’m sorry, baby, I gotta go.”

“I know. Go.” Jennifer gently touched the side of Richie’s face, and he turned his head to kiss her palm.

“Bye honey,” he said, and backed away toward the security gate.

Jennifer watched them until she couldn’t see them anymore, then with a heavy heart, left the airport. When she got home, she tried to pretend nothing was wrong. She stripped the beds in Joan’s and Ava’s rooms, and brought the laundry to the washing machine. While that was going, she went into her bedroom – their bedroom as she’d come to think of it, and gasped when she saw the box on the bed. Richie must have left it when he went back upstairs to grab his guitar before they left for the airport.

The stiff white paper and purple satin ribbon called to her. She sat on Richie’s side of the bed, pulled his pillow into her lap, and picked up the box. It was about 10 inches long, and slender and light. She carefully untied the ribbon, and set it aside. She flipped the box over and used a fingernail to slit the tape. Jennifer removed the paper and folded it, and set it next to the ribbon. She opened the box and said, “Oh!”

Nestled in a bed of royal purple satin was a gorgeous diamond bracelet. Jennifer traced its length with a fingertip, and cried. The stones were set in platinum and were arranged in bunches shaped like flowers. Each five-diamond, forget-me-not-shaped cluster was separated by a full quarter-carat round cut diamond. Jennifer didn’t know much about jewelry, but these white diamonds glittered and sparkled like they were lit from within. She managed to secure it around her wrist, and picked up the box. She lifted the edge of the satin and saw a note. Unfolding it, she smiled at his bold handwriting.

Dearest Jennifer,

Wrinkle up the wrapping paper. I know you; you carefully cut the tape and folded the paper neatly didn’t you? I love that about you; your neatness and penchant for making souvenirs out of anything and everything. There are so many things I love about you, that it would take a lifetime to list, and since I’ve already lived half my life, I fear I will never get to tell you everything.

I want to try, though. I want to tell you about the thousands of things I love about you. I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want to share with you everything I have and everything I am.

Wear this and remember that I love you, and if I’m not with you, that I miss you terribly, and am picturing you naked. Hell, even if I’m with you, I’m picturing you naked.

Made you smile!

All my love,

PS: Stop crying and answer the phone. The captain is just about to turn off the seatbelt sign…

Jennifer laughed when her phone rang. “How the hell do you do that?” she asked.

“I told you, baby,” Richie said, “I’ve traveled more than half my life. I have this DOWN.”

“This is gorgeous, Rich. You didn’t have to do this.” She sniffled. “And I am NOT wrinkling up the paper. I did muss the ribbon though, if that makes you feel better.”

“Loads better,” Richie said. “And I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. I love you. Just wanted to check in.”

“How’d you know I’d be up in our room?”

Richie smiled at her turn of phrase. “Darlin’, I know you. I’ll bet you have a load of sheets in the wash now, and went up to our room to debate over changing the linens there or not.”

Jennifer shook her head. “That’s eerie, babe.”

Richie grinned. “I call it perceptive.”

Jennifer laughed. They chatted for a while, then Richie had to go – they were making their approach to Jersey, and he needed to get off the phone. He promised to call when he got back to his house, and they signed off. Several hours later, he called again. Jennifer was on the road when he called. She couldn’t stand being alone in her house anymore. Everywhere she looked, there was something that reminded her of Richie, and she was wandering from room to room sobbing. She had finally called her grandmother and asked if she could use the Hamptons house for the weekend. She had to get away.

Richie let her know they had gotten back safely, and lamented that he didn’t feel like he was home. “It doesn’t feel like home without you here with me. I wish you were able to come to California with me.” They talked for a long time, then Jennifer had to go; she needed to concentrate on driving.

When she got to the house in East Hampton, she dropped her bag in the entry hall and went around the house, throwing open the windows to capture the ocean breeze that was blowing. Jennifer called her mom to let her know she arrived safely, then hung up the phone and went outside to sit on the deck and watch the waves.

This was too hard. The saying-goodbye-and-staying-apart thing. Where she grew up, when you loved each other, you stayed together. Sure there were times when you had to travel for your job or when you wanted a day to yourself, but at the end of the day, you shared a house along with your life.

She ran a finger around her bracelet and thought about what Rich had said about wishing she could go out to California. Could she change her life that dramatically? Leave her friends, family, and job, and move clear across the country?

Did he really want her to? Did she really want to?

She sat there for a long time, thinking on this. When her knee started throbbing from the cool September night air, she went back inside, and went to bed.

The Rest Of The Story

Saturday, November 28, 2009
Your breath hisses from your lips and you swallow audibly.

“Strip,” I command, walking back to my observation chair. You watch my ass as I stalk past you, wishing you could reach out and touch it. But you know better.

I cross my long legs, my eyes filled with pleasure as you slowly unbutton your jeans and lift them over your throbbing cock, now straining and purplish in color.

“Poor baby,” I murmur with little sympathy when you wince as the rough fabric abrades your sensitive flesh.

You kick off your shoes and push the jeans off your legs, finally standing completely naked before me, awaiting my next instruction.

I watch you over steepled fingertips, studying you from top to bottom. For long moments I make you wait as I watch you…my expression considering.

I stand and grab your wrist, leading you to a nearby table with an elaborate chest on top. “This is my box of tricks,” I explain. I open it with a flourish and you gasp. Nestled in a velvet interior as all manner of sexual, pleasure and torture devices. I watch you, considering, my eyes narrowed, gauging your expressions.

First comes several lengths of leather cord. With one of them, I wrap your wrists together, tightly, securing the ends by knotting them into a metal ring.

I peruse the other items. I remove the ball gag and look at you, noting the slightly mortified look. Pity, but I want your mouth to be free for the time being, so I save that for later.

I select several squares of fabric – lush velvets, soft silks, luxurious furs – and add some feathers, and of course, a black blindfold. I know I need a few more items before I blindfold you though. I study your impassive expression then select a long black vibrator, three silver balls, and a tube of lubricant.

Your eyes grow wide with astonishment and you start to speak.

“Mercy already, darling?” My eyebrows are high, an unmistakable challenge in my gaze.

You quickly shake your head, but your eyes are round as quarters. What a good boy you are.

I lead you to the bed by your wrists and instruct you to sit on the side. You obey and I stand with my thighs spread, straddling your knees, my breasts right in front of you.

You ache to touch a swollen pink nipple…so close…but sorry, honey. You’re to be my chair for the time being.

I slowly drag my fingertips through your hair and whisper, “It’s your job to sit completely still. Do not move.” Then I turn and sweep my hair over my shoulder so you can truly admire the lace-up back of my leather corset. I bend down and remove my g-string. The scent of my arousal tickles your nostrils and your nose twitches, but you don’t say anything, and most importantly, you don’t move.

Slowly I perch myself on your knees, leaning back against you.

You know you have to sit completely still, unmoving, but you can’t help but admire my upturned lips as I lean my head back on your shoulder.

I whisper a command. “You’re not allowed to touch.” Then spread my legs wide and reach for the vibrator.

ou groan when you realize what I’m going to do.

With an evil smile, I reach up with one hand to caress my breast, roughly pulling and plucking my nipple, the way I know you like to. With the other hand, I turn the toy on its slowest setting, lightly tracing the insides of my thighs.

You moan, a muffled sound that makes me reach for the whip lying at your side. “Remember, no words,” I remind you, dragging the ends of it across my pussy, trailing my juices up over my abdomen, between my breasts and teasing your nose before setting it back down. “And no touching yourself either,” I murmur, gyrating my ass against your bound hands on your lap.

I turn the toy on a higher setting, just lightly toying with my opening at first, then sliding it deep inside with a satisfied gasp. It’s not you baby, but right now, it will do. Particularly when I can feel your huge, pulsing cock poking me in the small of my back.

I coat it with my juices and remove it, holding it up to your face and place the tip of it against your lips. “Suck my juices off it,” I command you.

You grimace, the idea of putting a cock, even a fake one, in your mouth distasteful. But in the end, you can’t resist the smell or the taste of me, and you obey.

I take pity on you, not forcing you to take it completely in your mouth, but instructing you to drag your tongue up one side and down the other.

“Mmmmmm, seeing your lips on that and knowing it’s going to be inside my pussy makes me hot,” I hiss, my eyes flashing with arousal.

Slowly I glide the wet vibe inside my aching flesh, uttering a deep guttural moan once it’s jammed to the hilt. I turn it on its highest setting and grab your hand, placing your fingers against the rabbit ears on either side of my clit. “Don’t move,” I whisper breathlessly, grinding against your lap and the vibe and your fingers until I feel so nasty and I just can’t take it any more. I push your legs apart, rapidly closing mine so I can clamp down on the violent pulsations, moaning, screaming, and thrashing as I come.

I collapse against you, my chair, and gasp for air until I finally return to some semblance of sanity. I’m impressed with your will power, but see your eyes darken when I remove the vibrator, a long thread of tumescent fluid clinging to its tip.

On slightly shaky legs, I stand. “Your turn, darling. Lie down.”

You smile and move backward, difficult at best with your hands bound. “Roll over,” I command you onto your stomach.

Your eyes widen in panic, fixed on the soaked vibe and silver balls at the edge of the bed.

“Mercy?” I ask, smiling.

You shake your head and roll over onto all fours. I roughly stretch your hands in front of you, exposing a hidden hook on the headboard and attaching your wrists to it. I tap the small of your back with the vibrator. “Down,” I instruct and you lay flat, moaning as you shift your hips to take the weight off your erection.

I trail the wet vibrator along your back, stopping to lightly tease the taut globes of your ass. “Relax, baby,” I whisper in your ear. Thinking I have something horrific planned, you squeeze your eyes shut, but I place the vibrator to the side and straddle you instead.

Squeezing some of the lotion lubricant into my hands, I grab the silver balls and roll them gently over your spine. Once you force yourself to relax, you enjoy the sensation, particularly when I lean over and press my breasts into your shoulders, my hair tickling your face.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.” My hot breath is right in your ear and you have to shift your hips to take your weight off your erection.

I notice and take sympathy, particularly since you don’t complain.

Reaching up, I remove the metal ring from the hook. “Don’t move your arms down, but turn over.”

I move to the side and allow you to twist around, then reach back up to re-secure your wrists.

Now I truly have the chance to admire your form. Your shoulders and biceps are bunched with strain, your chest heaving with each breath, sweat dampening your hair to your forehead.

I tenderly brush it aside. “What’s my name baby?”

“Mistress Jennifer,” you reply, your voice a harsh whisper.

Your cock is enormous, jerking toward me. I smile in satisfaction.

I lean down and kiss your neck, just under your earlobe, my tongue darting here and there until you’re gasping.

I drag the tip of it down the your throat, swirling into that indentation above your collarbone before moving lower.

Your breath comes out in a whimper as my hair drags down your abdomen, but then I stop, still not touching your cock.

“What’s your word?” I whisper.

“More?” you squeak.

I smile. What a good boy.

“You want my pussy bad baby, don’t you?”

You nod, sweat trickling down your cheek, watching as my open mouth hovers over the straining head of your cock.

“Well, will my tongue do?” I ask with an evil grin.

You nod even more rapidly, your breath coming in harsh gasps.

I lower my lips til they’re a scant millimeter from your aching flesh.

“God, please…” you moan, clenching your eyelids closed.

I sit back on my heels. “Those aren’t your words,” I scold.

“Baby….pleeeeease….fuck me….can’t take it,” you groan.

I move even further away. “Please don’t make me use the whip, Richard. Now what are your words?”

You shake your head as if to clear it, then whisper, “More, Mistress Jennifer.”

I lightly brush your thighs with the end of the whip. “Louder, pet.”

“More, Mistress Jennifer,” you say in as normal a voice as you can muster.

“Better. But I’m going to have to punish you for your mistakes.”

Tears trickled from beneath your lids, sliding toward your temples. God, what more exquisite torture could I have planned?

I grab the vibrator and turn it on it slowest setting, teasing your inner thighs, your tight pelvic muscles, then circling the base of your cock before settling just above your testicle, pressing it with quick touches. Don’t want to overwhelm you.

You half moan, half cry.

“Mercy?” I ask softly.

You hurriedly shake your head.

I grin. I know the one form of torture you can’t handle.

I straddle your thighs and whisper, “Look at me, pet.” You force your eyes open, grimacing as your cock jerks toward me involuntarily.

Fascinated, you watch as the evidence of my arousal slowly drips onto your thighs. “Mmmmmm see how much I want you, baby?” I whisper. I scoot up until I’m hovering over your straining dick, then firmly grasp it and begin to circle my clit with the tip, gasping with pleasure.

With my other hand I clasp my breast, pinching the nipple roughly, rolling it in my fingertips, all the while dragging your dripping cock over my clit, masturbate myself with you.

“You know you’re not gonna be inside me til you say it,” I tease.

You can’t take it any more. Your hips are jerking, your cock is oozing pre-cum, and I’m using you so nastily. “MERCY!” The word is nearly a scream.

With a satisfied smile, I lower myself onto you, taking your entire length in one deep stroke, my eyes closing as I savor the sensation.

“The wrists, Jennifer,” you grit out, desperate to touch me.

I lean over, pressing my breasts against your hard chest, and kiss your lips while reaching for the hook. “Love you, Richie…” I giggle.

Once they’re free you moan impatiently as I undo the cord, and FINALLY you’re able to turn me over and fuck me.

Pinning my shoulders with your strong thumbs, I lay there unmoving as you pound into me, exacting your revenge. Within ten strokes we’re both groaning in ecstasy, my pussy greedily grasping you, milking your cock of every drop of come as you spasm inside me.

“Fuck,” you scream, your release the most intense you’ve experienced in years.

Finally you collapse on top of me, your breathing harsh and labored while I wrap my legs around your waist, smiling with satisfaction as I feel our juices flooding out of my still vibrating pussy.

When you finally regain sanity, you look at me, stroking my jaw with a gentle fingertip. “Next time, I’m the master.”

Later that night, after Joan and Ava had gone to bed, Richie and Jen were standing side by side in the bathroom, brushing their teeth. Richie’s eyes met Jen’s in the mirror, and he wagged his eyebrows. "How's your evening looking, Mistress?" he said suggestively.

Laughing, Jennifer spit a mouthful of foam into the bowl and rinsed her mouth. "Don’t get me wrong, I mean, I'm glad you're taking an interest in my, er, hobbies as it were," she said, laughing and blushing, "but damn, you're really getting into the board and, well, our little hobby."

Richie colored slightly. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted. "I see the appeal of the anonymous board to you ladies. I can actually forget I've met some of them, and just goof off like a regular guy. And the others? The ones who don't know who I am? They're wonderful fun. They actually like me for me, not because they know who I am."

"Yeah," Jennifer said, "but it's a bit disconcerting to know that you're, you know..." She trailed off, not quite able to bring herself to say the words.

"That we're reading porn you write about us?"

"We?" Jen choked.

"Figure of speech." They finished in the bathroom and got into bed. "You do know how a guy's mind works right? Any porn -- straight porn -- is good porn. Even if it is written by friends."

"My friends are going to die, absolutely DIE when they know who you are on the board."

"Aw shit, are they gonna be mad?"

Jennifer laughed and carefully sidled closer to Richie, stroking him through his pajama bottoms. "Baby, they like you. They'll be mortified, but they'll get over it because you're funny, you play with everyone, are an incorrigible flirt, and the shit you write, on the board, and in yoru songs, makes them wet."

"What about you," Richie growled in her ear as he slid a hand under her nightshirt to palm a breast.

"I know you're thinking of me when you were writing that stuff on the board," she said, stroking him harder now. "I can feel your hands and mouth on me with your words." She groaned as Richie squeezed her hardened nipple. "Yeah, you could say it makes me wet too."

Jennifer eased Richie's pants down off his hips and rolled him toward her, spreading her legs so he could settle in between them. Mashing his mouth to hers, he pushed into her roughly, making her gasp. "You know," Richie said, as he stroked, gently now, in and out of her, "you've written a LOT of stories." He kissed her neck, biting and marking her. "That's a whole lot of stuff to try out."

"Damn," Jennifer said, as she raised her hips in time with his grueling rhythm, "and the others have some real good stories too..."

Richie's pace increased, making Jennifer mewl. "Baby, we have a whole lot of reading to do," he said.

"Speak for yourself," Jennifer said through tightly clenched teeth. "I've already -- OH!" she groaned as the waves overtook her. She arched from the bed, grabbing onto Richie's shoulders for purchase as he slammed her silly.

"Already what," he gasped, hanging onto his control by a thread.

Nearly sobbing with pleasure, Jennifer finished her thought, "...already bookmarked them."

"Dammmmmmnnnn," Richie growled as he pulsed inside her.

The next morning was an early one, and Jennifer stumped into the office a little after 6:30. She hardly had any time to herself all day. Richie kept sending her sexy texts and emails, and more than once, Jennifer had to ignore the little blinking red light on her blackberry or the envelope icon in the system tray. She just couldn't handle all the teasing. The board had turned some switch in him, making him more open, more playful, than she'd yet seen him.

God, she loved her Jovi Sisters…

Goddess’ Note: The substory in this and the previous chapter are from the Fiction Mistress. She wrote them during the T’s Place Interactive Fan Fic adventure, and incorporated it into one of her own stories.

Thank You, Samantha!

Tuesday afternoon, Richie was left on his own. Jen was at the office and Joan and Ava had gone out with Ma and Joanna for a girls’ day out. He messed around on the computer for a while, but the raunchy talk was making him miss Jennifer. He called Jon and talked to him for a while, and was still on the phone with him when the women returned from their day out. Richie dropped the phone to the floor with a clatter. He could hear Jon yelling at him, but could only stare at his daughter. Ava was glammed up. There was no other phrase to describe how she looked. She had light makeup on, her hair was styled into an elegant chignon, and her wide smile made her look, well, just like her mother.

"What's wrong, Daddy?" She said, frowning. "Don't I look pretty?"

Richie shook himself. "Angel, 'pretty' doesn't begin to cover it. You look beautiful." He kissed her cheek. "Did Joanna get dolled up, too?"

"Yep, she sure did. We had fun taking pictures. Nana and Ma have some, I'm sure they'll show you." Richie smiled at the way Ava called Jennifer's mother "Ma".

Ava preened and Joan caught his eye over Ava's head. Smiling at his gobsmacked expression, she asked, "Who's on the phone?"

"Shit!" He exclaimed and picked the device up off the floor. "Sorry man, I just aged 10 years. You should see what they did to my baby girl. She looks about sixteen."

Jon chuckled. "S'alright," he said. "Just wait until she's sixteen and looks twenty-two. Then we'll talk." Jon sighed. "Look, I gotta go anyway," he said. “Catch ya later."

"Yeah, sure," Richie answered.

He hung up and went in search of his women. Well, the women who were home. Joan had taken Ava out back to feed the ducks who seemed to like the pond out there. "Whatcha girls doing?" he asked.

Ava pulled a face and sighed. "Daddy, we're trying to feed the ducks, but you're too big. You're scaring them. Go away."

"Love you too, baby," Richie said. "But okay. Come find me when you're done with the ducks."

Richie smiled as he went back inside. With his mother and daughter occupied, he knew what he was going to do. He was hitting the board. He ensconced himself in their bedroom, and booted his laptop. When he signed onto the board and started reading the posts from one of the more naughty of Jen’s friends, his erection nearly knocked the computer off his lap.

You finally notice me, sitting in that chair in the corner. I think you may have an idea what’s coming once you see the leather. And the boots.

“Well, hello darlin’,” your voice dips low, husky, your eyes taking it all in, from the pointed heels of my boots to the pony whip I’m slowly stroking in my palm.

“No more talking,” I say, my voice seeming as if it’s coming from someone else. Hard. Brooking no arguments.

I walk toward you, eyeing my prey.

You stand straight, watching me. Is that amusement I see glinting in your eyes?

That’s mistake number one, my friend.

I slowly trace the end of my whip down your throat, down your chest, down your abdomen. With the tip, I lift the soft cotton hem of your t-shirt to trace the outline of your ab muscles.

They twitch, obviously enjoying the attention. Fascinated, I drag my fingernails across those abs as I circle behind you. “Richard,” I begin, the tone of my voice a warning, “there are only three words you’re allowed to utter now.”

Your eyebrow inches up your forehead as you wait. Your mind is full of questions, but you know you’ve just given up the privilege of asking them.

I complete the circle, standing in front of you, my breath on your lips, my eyes commanding you not to look down.

“Your safety word is mercy. When you say this, I will stop. But make sure you want me to.” The whip is circling your burgeoning erection and at the moment, the last thing you want me to do is stop.

“Your pleasure word is more. When you say this, I will take it to the next level.” You gasp as I reach forward and grab your shirt at the collar, efficiently ripping it off your body. “Very nice,” I say with a pleased smile when I notice your cock is now straining above the waistband of your jeans, already oozing pre-cum.

“And the third word?” You gasp, more turned on than you’ve ever been.

I arch a brow and swat your side with the wispy ends of the whip. “I SAID no talking.”

You lower your head in, not quite submission yet, but acquiescence.

I smile. I know it won’t be long. “The third word is my name. That is the only name you need to remember from now on. Of course, I suppose that means we need to add a fourth word.”

You blink, staring at the floor. I raise your chin with my finger until you’re looking directly into my eyes.

“You may call me Mistress Jennifer.”

"Sweet Jesus," he said, turning away. Then he turned back and read it again. Then he reached for the phone.

"Jennifer Petruzzo," she said, distractedly.

"Hey, darlin', whatcha up to?" he said, in a low, sultry voice.

Jennifer chuckled as she walked up the hallway toward her next meeting. "I take it you read Sam's latest bit of porn? She's trying that out for a story she's working on; I take it that it works for you?"

"Oh hell yeah it works for me," he said, stroking his cock. "Can she see into my head or something? I know I told her my little desire, but hell, she jumped all over it."

"She sure did, baby," Jennifer said, whispering.

"Oh, damn, I love it when you talk all low and sexy like that," Richie said, breathing hard.

Jennifer paused to listen. "Tell me you aren't doing what I think you're doing? Dammit, Rich, I can't believe I'm missing out."

"Don't worry, there'll be more for you when you get home..." His stroking was getting more insistent.

"What about the other people in the house?"

"They're outside, and trying to distract me isn't going to work; I'm picturing you in that cat suit and stilettos..." His breath came in a gasp, and Jennifer hastened to lower the volume on her phone.

"Dammit, that was LOUD," she hissed. Sighing, she ducked into an empty conference room and continued, smiling evilly. "But, baby, are you almost there? Is my voice helping you get harder? Are you feeling my hand around your shaft, or maybe my mouth?"

"Jesus, Jen," Richie gritted out.

"You started it, baby, now finish it. Let me hear you. C'mon, baby, groan for me."

"Damn, darlin'...oh hell....fuck...Jennnn...." He finished on a long, low groan as he came. "Sweet hell..."

"That's it, baby," Jennifer crooned, then jumped when someone knocked on the door.

"You alright, Jen?" Paul, her new manager asked. "You're awfully red."

"I'm fine," Jennifer said, even as she heard Richie's laughter. She spoke into the receiver. "Clean up, I'll see you later. Love you, bye."

Richie chuckled at her, and at himself. He didn't know why this was getting to him so much. Sure, it was sexy stuff, and very erotic, but it was directed at him and Jennifer, and he knew Sam did that on purpose, and that made it much easier to picture the two of them in that scenario. He looked at the board again, refreshing his screen, and read the next "installment" of the little story. Holy shit.

Goddess’ Note: The substory in this and the next chapter are from the Fiction Mistress. She wrote them during the T’s Place Interactive Fan Fic adventure, and incorporated it into one of her own stories.

Football Game

Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The box seats were wonderful, the food was fantastic, and drinks were offered almost constantly. Jennifer thought to herself, "A girl could get used to this." The only thing that was wrong was her leg wasn't comfortable. Well there were two things: her leg, and the sucky performance of the freshmen on her beloved Patriots' team.

Throughout the first quarter, the Ravens walked all over the Patriots. Matty Cassel couldn't make a play to save his life, and the defense was spaghetti at best. The second quarter wasn't much better, but when the new quarterback fumbled a snap, well Jennifer was all set. She knew the team wouldn't pull this one out.

When halftime rolled around, she looked for Richie. He was talking with some of the others who shared the corporate box. Jennifer smiled. That man could make friends with a stone statue. Richie caught her eye, and made his excuses, crossing the box to sit on the plush couch next to Jennifer.

"You alright, baby?" he asked, gently pulling her leg up onto his lap. The tenderness in his touch made her sigh.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm alright, just a little uncomfortable."

Richie smiled. "You wanna take off?"

"Would you mind?" Jennifer knew he was having fun socializing, even though he could care less about the game. Hell, she could care less about the game. It WAS only preseason after all -- just a chance to check out the new meat. Tommy wasn't even playing, though from their seats, she could see him stalking back and forth along the sideline like Coach did.

"Nah," Richie said. "Now, if the Giants were playing..."

Jennifer laughed. "Yeah, yeah, smart guy." She pulled Richie's head down for a kiss. "Another few weeks and we're playing your G's. Damn I hope Coach puts in the first line."

"Baby, it's just a game." A hush fell over the box, and he got staring, gape-mouthed looks from nearly everyone in the box.

Jennifer smiled. "It's okay, everyone, he lives in LA."

Conversation resumed, and Jennifer could see twinkling mirth in Richie's eyes. The two made their way back to the car, and after Richie got her settled, he made the 20-minute drive back to the house. The whole time, Jennifer was twitching and shifting, though she didn't say a word. As they pulled up to the house, the front door opened, and Joan came out onto the porch. She noticed Jennifer's discomfort right away.

"What's wrong?" she asked Jennifer, as she thumped up the stairs while Richie put the car into the garage.

"I hate to complain, it's alright."

"Don't be stubborn," Joan insisted. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Well, my knee, it sorta burns on the side a little; it's probably just healing."

"When's the last time you took the brace off?" Joan knew that Jennifer had taken to sponge baths and washing her hair in the sink, especially once the brace was in a really comfortable position. It took forever and dozens of adjustments before it felt good, and she hated to undo it if she could help it.

"A couple days ago," she answered. "It's due for an adjustment, I guess."

Joan led her to the living room and Ava jumped up from the couch.

“You’re home!” She ran over for a hug. “How was the game?”

“Awful,” Jennifer answered, laughing. “My team stunk like feet.”

Joan urged her to sit, and Jennifer put her leg up next to her, groaning softly. Joan undid the brace and laid it open and gasped. The outside of her knee was cut and bleeding. "Jennifer! What the hell happened?" Jen was shocked; she'd never heard this woman utter a harsh word in the whole time she was there, and the mild curse took her by surprise.

Jennifer looked. "I have no idea. Rich?"

"Right here, babe," he said, coming into the room. "Sweet hell, Jen!" he said, then left for the bathroom, Ava on his tail. He came back a few minutes later, with Ava behind him carrying a first-aid kit. Gently, he cleaned the scrapes and Ava put a salve and light dressing over them, and Jennifer felt much better.

Ava pressed a gentle kiss on the bandage. "That's what Daddy does to make the hurt go away," she said. "He said that a kiss with love in it can fix anything."

Jennifer reached for Ava, who came to give her a hug. "Thanks, Sundrop," she said. "It feels better already."

Ava settled in next to Jen, and within minutes, was fighting valiantly to stay awake. "Why don't you go to bed, sweetheart?" Jen said, stroking the girl's hair. "You look beat."

She looked up with slumberous eyes. "I'm not sleepy," she said, making the adults laugh.

Richie scooped his daughter up, and she burrowed into his chest. "C'mon, Angel," he said. Looking at Jennifer, he warned, "Don't get up. I'll be back for you in a few minutes."

As Richie took his little girl upstairs, Jen could hear her ask, “Can I sleep with you again, Daddy?” Jennifer sighed.

As promised, he returned minutes later. Kissing his mother on the cheek as he passed, he knelt by the couch and carefully closed the brace along Jennifer's leg. "You ready?" he asked. When Jennifer nodded, he scooped her up too. "G'night, Mom," he said.

"Good night, kids," Joan answered, smiling. “I’ll be in Ava’s room with her tonight.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Richie said, as he carried a blushing Jennifer across the room.

Joan chuckled. She was so happy to see her son so happy. And Ava too. She was surprised her granddaughter took to Jennifer so quickly. For many months now, the girl had been leery of anyone outside their family. Joan was worried that Ava was getting too attached to Jen. She was a nice woman and all, but she wasn't convinced that she had the staying power to deal with Richie's professional life. She hoped to heaven she was wrong.

When Richie got them upstairs, he put Jennifer on the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He brought her a basin and her toothbrush, and when she was done, he took it all away and came back with her hairbrush. Sitting behind her on the bed, he brushed one hundred long strokes through her hair, counting each one. When he was done, he pulled her hair up into a horsetail then pulled Jennifer back against his chest.

"You are so good to me, baby," Jennifer said, stroking her fingers along the powerful legs that lay alongside hers. She tickled under his knees, and he shifted against her, letting her feel his erection against the small of her back.

"It's because I love you," he said, leaning down to nibble her neck. "And I want you."

"I know," Jennifer answered smiling. "You were in my office all day today. I know what you were trying to do. And the guitar was a low blow. You know I can't resist that."

Richie bit gently on the side of Jennifer's neck, making her moan. "But you did, baby," Richie said. "And I had to take out all my frustration on your girlfriends." Richie had told Jen all about the afternoon’s activities, and she had logged onto the board using her Blackberry to see for herself.

Jennifer chuckled. "Stephanie said in a PM that she doesn't think she can look you in the eyes anymore after that. Where the hell did that come from?"

Richie trailed a hand down Jen's arm and eased it around to cup her breast. "I guess you bring out the wanton hussy in me," he said, as he squeezed her nipple gently.

Jennifer sucked in a breath. "Well," she said, "it was very, uh, stimulating."

"That was the idea," Richie said, then laughed. "Though Jon thought it was a bit much. Told me to pour some of that into song lyrics."

"Mmmm," Jennifer said, reaching between them to stroke him through is cargo shorts. "I think I'd rather keep that side of you all to myself."

Richie let her tease him for a few minutes longer, then gently pulled her hand away. "Baby, I want to be inside you," he said huskily.

"So what are you waiting for?" Jennifer asked him, squeezing him again.

With a growl, Richie gently extricated himself from behind Jennifer and hastily stripped off his clothes. Jennifer stripped off her Patriots jersey and bra, and tried to muscle her shorts down, but couldn’t quite do it. Richie knelt beside her, gently working the fabric over her legs and off, tossing them behind him. He stroked a hand up Jennifer’s thigh, reveling in the way he made her twitch and shiver. He slid up her body and into her warm, waiting flesh. With a groan, Richie fully seated himself.

“Damn, I should have let you do this all afternoon,” Jennifer said, arching her neck.

“Told you so,” Richie said, stroking gently in and out of her.

“Don’t be gentle,” Jennifer begged.


“Please,” she implored. “I’m tired of people treating me like spun glass. I’m fine,” she said, pulling Richie in closer to her with her foot. “Please, baby,” she said.

Richie’s blood buzzed in his veins. He’d wanted to be so careful with her, didn’t want to hurt her, but damn, he missed being able to let go with her. He tentatively thrust hard into her, and she moaned. When she rasped, ‘again’, and her hands closed around his forearms, squeezing, he gave her what she wanted. He slammed her hard, over and over, and watched as Jennifer’s lower lip disappeared into her mouth. He stopped and waited for her to open her eyes.

“I love you,” Richie said, and thrust hard into her.

“I love you too, Rich,” Jennifer answered, and her eyes started to drift shut again.

“Uh-uh, baby, leave ‘em open.” Jennifer’s eyes flew open. “That’s my girl,” he said. He reached between them to massage her clit, and he could feel her tensing around him as her orgasm approached.

“Rich,” Jennifer pleaded. “Please, I’m so close.”

“So let it go,” he answered, quickening his finger.

“Oh, gawwwwd,” Jennifer groaned as the first ripples overtook her.

When Richie felt her go over, he started stroking in and out of her again, letting the clenching of her muscles pull him in deeper. When she moaned out his name and arched from the bed, he dropped his hand from her clit and slammed into her, unrelenting, until he came with a growl. When the pulsing stopped, he rolled to her side and gathered her to his chest.

“Thank you,” Jennifer said, stroking his chest.

“Darlin’, you never have to thank me. The pleasure was all mine.”

“Not all, baby,” Jennifer said, looking up at him with a satisfied smile.

Richie chuckled and kissed her tenderly. “Sleep now, baby,” he said.

The next morning, Jennifer woke relaxed and happy. She raised her arms and stretched, forgetting for a moment that some of her muscles don't really want to stretch. A sharp pain stabbed through her knee and she cried out softly, not wanting to wake Rich. She thumped to the bathroom and shut the door, crying softly. "Dammit!" she cursed. "Damn, damn, damn!" After her little pity party was done, she unwrapped her leg and crawled into the shower. Clean, dried, and re-wrapped, she threw on some work clothes and went downstairs make breakfast before starting her day. Vacation time was over; it was time to go back to work.

More Distractions

Wednesday, October 28, 2009
“Rich, if you don’t get out of here, I’m never going to get anything done!”

Jennifer was exasperated.  She was trying to get through her day’s work, but she was having no end to distractions.  Richie was frustrated that they hadn’t had any real alone time in the week since he arrived.  Ava had taken to sneaking into their bedroom at night, and either she or his mother were always around.  Jennifer loved having them as houseguests.  They were having such a great time, she hated to think about when they would leave.

Richie couldn’t wait.  He loved his mother and his daughter, but he wanted Jennifer all to himself.  He was trying his damnest to get her hot and bothered enough to sneak away upstairs with him while his mother and daughter were making cookies in the kitchen. 

He spent the morning in an over-sized easy chair in the corner of Jennifer’s home office, quietly playing his twelve-string.  He was dressed to entice, in snug blue jeans, a soft, white chambray shirt left completely unbuttoned and rolled up to the elbows, and nothing else.  As he played, he hummed to himself, keeping a watchful eye on Jennifer the whole time.  Several times throughout the morning, he caught her watching him, and heard her sigh wistfully a time or two.  He knew he was breaking through her resolve.

Of course, every time it seemed she would join him on the chair or take him to their bedroom, one of his other women would come looking for them.  It never failed.   Still, he was prepared to pay his mother to take Ava to lunch.  So was Jennifer.

Still, the teasing was fun, and the stolen moments they had together to kiss or fondle was the best foreplay he’d had in quite some time.  After checking the hallway and finding it empty (again) and knowing that wouldn’t last (again) he put his guitar down on the floor and stood behind Jennifer. 

“Do you like that?” Richie asked, as he rubbed gentle circles around Jennifer’s neck and shoulders.  He slid his fingers into her hair and sifted its length through them.  He applied just enough pressure on her scalp to make her purr.

“You know I love it when you touch me,” she said, leaning back into his hands and closing her eyes.  “But if we want to go to the Patriots game tonight, I have to get …” She trailed off as Richie slid his hands downward over her neck and touched his fingertips at her throat.  Very slowly, he pressed his hands downward, until he was cupping her breasts.  He had just grazed his thumbs over her nipples when Ava bounded into the room. 

“Daddy!” she yelled, causing him to jump.  “Chocolate chip or M&M?”

His lust-fogged brain didn’t understand the question.  “What?” he asked, keeping his back to his daughter.  He didn’t want her to see him aroused.  “What are you talking about?”

“The cookies, silly,” she answered.  “Should we make chocolate chip or M&M?”

“Why not both?” Jennifer asked, her voice husky.

“Are you okay, Jennifer?” Ava asked.  “You’re voice sounds funny.”

Jen cleared her throat as Richie chuckled softly.  “Just a frog sweetie.  Can we have both?”

“Sure!  It’s your house, we hafta do what you say, right?”  She bounded out of the room humming, leaving the door open behind her.

Richie growled and crossed the room in three strides, and had to refrain from slamming the door.  He closed it gently, and snicked the lock in place.

“What are you doing?”

Richie came back to her and pulled her from the chair.  “Those cookies should keep them occupied for at least a half an hour,” he said, smiling.  “We are having a nooner.  You know, where you take a break from work, and let me fuck you silly.”  He dipped his head to capture her mouth in a kiss that seared her to the soles of her feet.

“But what if they come back?”

“That’s why I locked the door,” he murmured, nibbling on her neck.  He slid his hands under her t-shirt and pushed the cups of her bra up.  When he rolled her nipples between his fingers, she moaned and arched her back a little.  Richie smiled and raised the hem of her shirt so he could latch on to one tight, pink peak.  He suckled greedily, sending hot shots of lust through Jennifer’s body.

Richie raised his head and walked them over to the couch.  When he sat down, he pulled Jen across his lap and promptly lowered his head again.  Jen laid back on his arm and let him torture her with his exquisite mouth.  When his hand slid down to the waistband of her shorts, she gasped.

“Oh God, Rich,” she said.  “God help me, but I need you.”

He slid his hand up under the leg of her shorts, and traced lazy patterns with his slightly-long fingernails on her panties.  The light touch was driving her insane.  He had just slid a finger under the scrap of fabric and into her wet core when they heard someone rattling the door.  “Daddy?” Ava called.  “You still in there?”

Richie shushed Jennifer and called out, “Yeah, baby girl, what do you need?”

“Why is the door locked?”

Jennifer giggled.  “To try to keep the distractions to a minimum while I work,” she said, regretfully sliding off Richie’s lap.  Her step faltered when she saw Richie sucking on his finger.  “Hang on a second.” She tossed a pillow to Rich to put in his lap while she went to the door.  “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted Daddy to test the batter,” Ava answered, a batter-heavy spoon in her hand.

Richie groaned softly and stood.  “Sure, baby girl,” he said and came to stand by Jen.  He took the spoon and pulled most of the dough off with his teeth, the sweetness of the chocolate chips making him smile.  “Try some,” he said to Jennifer, and held the spoon up to her mouth.

She met Richie’s eyes and let him slide the spoon in.  She slowly closed her eyes and her cheeks hollowed as she pulled the batter from the spoon.  “Mmmm, that’s delicious,” she said, winking at Richie.  She turned back to Ava and gave the little girl a hug.  “You guys are going to make fantastic cookies.”  Beaming, Ava skipped from the room.

“Damn,” Richie said, grinning at Jen.  “You sure do know how to clean off a spoon.”

“I sure do, baby,” Jennifer said.

Richie pressed a quick kiss to Jen’s forehead.  “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” he said. 

When he walked up the hall, Jennifer blew out a sharp breath. The tension was getting to her, too.

When he came back, he was smiling, “Ma’s going to take Ava to lunch,” he said, wrapping Jennifer in a tight hug.  “They’ll be gone for at least an hour.”  He dipped his head to sip from her lips, and groaned when he heard little footsteps pounding down the hall.

“Jen!” Ava said, skidding to a halt in front of them and dancing from side to side.  “Daddy said we should go to lunch, and you should come too!”

“Ava, honey,” Richie said, “I said you and Grandma should go out.”

“But I want Jen to come,” Ava said pouting.  Joan was nowhere to be seen.

“Rich,” Jennifer said softly.  “It’s alright.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Make it up to me later,” Jennifer said and kissed his cheek.

Riche was told in no uncertain terms by his darling daughter that this was a girl’s lunch, and he wasn’t welcome to join them.  Left to his own devices he logged into the board.  He groaned when he saw what they were talking about.  Naughty talk in his current condition could prove to be painful.  Reluctant to join in, he watched for a while, laughing at some of the things the girls were saying.  Finally, Stephanie made some smart-ass remark about Richie, and he asked her if she needed a spanking.

She told him to give it his best shot.

“Well hell,” he said out loud, though there was nobody there to hear him.  “If it’s good enough for Jon...”  He flexed his fingers and replied to Stephanie.

OK..... since that sounds like a dare....

I'll grab your hand as you walk past and pull you to me. You look in my eyes and aren't quite sure what you see there. I'll smile indulgently and give you a knowing look. Your pulse will race as you realize what I mean to do.

When I sit and pull you across my lap, you let out a startled 'oh!'. I'll raise your skirt, showing me the creamy globes of your ass. The first smack stings, but after that, well, you don't mind so much...

By the fifth slap, you're squirming, and I can't control the response my body has to your movements. I'm so hard I can barely breathe. My slaps are lighter now, mere caresses, but to your over-sensitized flesh, the touch is almost unbearable. I lean down to kiss the red marks my hand has left on your flesh, and you purr.

I pull you up to sit, and you straddle my thighs, grinding against me as our mouths fuse together......

I plunge my tongue into your hot mouth and take all you'll give me. I reach up to grab your hair with one hand and angle you so I can go as deep as I can. Your hands fumble at my belt and I let your mouth go to stand us up, undo my pants, and rip your panties from your body. I crush you to me again, and plunder your mouth as I test your wetness with first one, then two fingers. They slide easily, so I add a third, and your knees buckle. Smiling, I sit again, and this time when you straddle me, it's to take my length inside you.

I feel you closing over me. I'm amazed that you can be so soft and so hard at the same time. Your muscles clench around me, squeezing me and it's all I can do to not grab your hips and bounce you on my lap. You set the pace, rolling your hips slowly. I unbutton your blouse and slide it from your shoulders, pleased to find you aren't wearing a bra.

I tear my mouth from yours to kiss my way down your neck, and lower still, to latch onto one pebbled nipple, pulling it into my mouth like my favorite candy. I roll my tongue over it, then my teeth, pulling gently. When you moan, I suck deep, making you grab my shoulders. You're starting to thrash now, and it won't be long until I feel you rippling around me, cumming hard. I can hardly wait.

I feel my thighs start to tense, and that tightening in my balls tells me it won't be long now. I don't want to release until you do, so I carry us across the room to the bed. Laying you down on the edge of the bed, I gently untangle your legs from around my waist and rest your ankles on my shoulders. I grab your hands and hold on as I tease you now, stroking slowly out of you until I'm almost free of your tender, hot flesh, then slamming home, burying myself to the hilt in you.

Again and again I pound you, and the sounds of our bodies slapping together and the ragged breathing we share are the only noises in the room. I watch, fascinated, as your eyes start to roll back, and your head thrashes from side to side. You shake your hands free from mine, and fist them into the sheets, using your arms as leverage to raise your hips in time with the grueling rhythm I've set.

I still can't get deep enough. Can't feel like I totally possess you. Roughly grabbing your ankles, I push at your feet, bending your legs so your knees are up near your delectable ears, exposing you more to me. I watch as my flesh slides easily into and out of yours, and I notice your poor lonely clit all but begging for attention. Smiling, I angle my arm so both your feet are braced against it, and I have my other hand free.

I moisten one finger, dipping it into my mouth, then slowly circle the little bundle of nerves nestled in the dark curls in front of me. You hiss and try to arch from the bed, but it's impossible from the position I have you in.

You cry out my name, begging me to take you over the edge, and how can I refuse. The circling around your clit gets faster and harder, and your eyes are completely rolled back now, tears leaking from their corners as you let a groan escape from your chest, slinking out between your swollen lips. Then you go over. I can feel the rush of moisture as you cum, and I move faster and faster in you. Your walls are pulsing around me, milking me, and one hard contraction, hitting just as I bury myself to the root in you, sets me off. I drop my arms, so I can brace them beside your head, letting your knees drape over my forearms. I ride the waves with you until every slight motion is almost painful.

I gather you up in my arms, and climb onto the bed, keeping us intimately joined. I lay us down together, and we doze happily. Sated...

For now...

“Damn,” he said out loud again.  He was hanging out with ‘Hath’ too much. But still, it was fun, flirting with the girls this way.  And the best part was, Jen wouldn’t even get upset; she’d probably find this hysterical.    Hell, she’d probably act it out with him.

If she’d hurry the fuck up and get HOME already.

Maybe they’d skip the game, after all.

(c) 2008 by TheGoddessHathor

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