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by Cristiano Caffieri
Marty Steven’s marriage was on the rocks, his wife was not only a misery to live with she spent every dollar he earned, and more. He desperately needed to get away somewhere to think things out. In the end bought a package deal to Thailand. He didn’t tell his wife where he was going he just said he’d be away for a week.
The resort turned out to be a relatively quite collection of huts up the coast from Bangkok with nothing much to do except sit out on the beach and drink. Unfortunately that gave him a little too much time to think and he began to get depressed. On the fourth day he rented a motor scooter and headed for the capital and some night life.
Once in the city he threw caution to the wind and walked into the first sleazy bar he came across. He drank far too much and when he staggered onto the street in the early hours of the morning he was attacked by a bunch of hoodlums and dragged into an alley. Severely beaten around the head, and stripped down to his underwear he wandered around until he attracted the attention of the police.
Taken to the station he was questioned about what happened and he couldn’t remember a thing, not even his own name. Having no ID and no money he quickly realized he was in a very difficult situation. In the end a young female cop, who spoke English, took pity on him and took him into one of the cells to clean him up and give him some coffee.
“I have some men’s clothes back at my apartment,” she said, as she sponged the blood from his head, “Perhaps we could take a cab when my shift finishes and you could take whatever you want. They belonged to an old boyfriend.”
Marty was so confused and his head was spinning like a top, but he did managed to mumble OK and then he lay down on the metal bed and attempted to nod off.
“No – sit up,” she cried, “You might have concussion, it could be dangerous if you fall asleep.
He managed to fight his eyelids for about an hour and then, as her colleagues raised their eyebrows, she led him out of the station and into an awaiting cab. When they arrived at the building where she lived she helped him up the stairs and once inside he collapsed on the floor and stayed out for a couple of hours.
Feeling cold water trickling down his face he awoke to find her bathing his head with a wet towel.
“How are you feeling?” she kept repeating in her heavily accented English. He was too confused to reply but he struggled to his feet and sat in a big chair by the window.
“I think you might have to stay here for tonight,” she said, with a look of concern on her face. He didn’t argue as he had no place to go.
It wasn’t the most comfortable position to sleep in but he slept through until the next morning when he smelt fresh coffee being brewed and looked up to see a very pretty young woman cooking breakfast.
“How’s the head?” she asked, seeing to him put his hand to his wound.
“Aches a little,” he grunted.
“Do you remember anything yet?”
“Not a thing.”
“Well I’m Mook,” she said, handing a cup of coffee, “I’m going to call you Brad – because I like Brad Pitt,” she laughed, “Is that OK?”
“Sure,” he said, sipping his coffee and eyeing her up and down.
Even though she was wearing her uniform she was still very shapely and he loved the way her face lit up when she smiled.
Over breakfast that consisted of rice and scrambled eggs she said if he behaved himself he could stay there until they’d established his identity. A few minutes later she left for work and he just sat there trying to remember who he was.
For the next few days she cooked for him and even did his laundry, which made him feel kind of guilty. He tried to show his willingness to work by cleaning up the apartment and washing the dishes and pots each day, but after that he just sat and watched TV. There were some American programs and occasionally something would create a flash of memory, but for the most part they were all jumbled up like in a dream, and they didn’t make a lot of sense.
On the fourth day it seemed the police were taking more interest in his case and she came home with a bunch of forms and began to take down his hair and eye color and other pertinent details.
When she placed him against the wall and tip toed up to put a pencil mark to measure his height their lips were only centimetres apart and he couldn’t resist giving her a little kiss. It was nothing dramatic but she froze for a few seconds then she took his face in her hands and gave him a real big one. It felt good!
Marty slipped his arms around her narrow waist and he crushed his lips against hers. To his surprise she quickly poked her tongue into his mouth and then it really started to get intense.
He wasn’t quite sure how far she was prepared to go but he gradually worked his hand over her breast. She gave a little gasp as though it ignited something inside of her and he quickly started to unbutton her top, slipped his hand around the back and unclipped her bra.
When he began to rub the palm of his hand over her nipples she started to tremble and breaking away from him, she took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. Soon they were both naked and pressing their warm bodies against each other.
Marty gently lowered her onto the bed and she lay there stretched out waiting for his next move. She had a beautiful petite body, gorgeous little tits and a hairy slit. He was so horny he could have dived onto her right then and fucked her but of course he wanted foreplay, and so did she.
As he stood at the end of the bed looking down at her she reached forward with her feet and held onto his cock. She didn’t try and jerk him off but simply fondled it with them. It felt so good but it was even better when her dainty feet slid between his legs and manoeuvred around his balls. However, in spite of it feeling great, he was anxious to nuzzle his face between her perky breasts.
She arched her back and moaned as he sucked, licked and touched them lovingly with his fingers. After a while he turned her over and she knelt down while he inserted his finger into her wet crack and then, with his other arm stretch around her, he massaged her tits with the other hand.
Mook’s body began to shake quite violently, and so did the bed, as she had a prize winning orgasm. As soon as she’d calmed down she turned around and grabbed his cock and after she worked her hand up and down it a few times she took it deep into her mouth and sucked it until he was about to blow his load and then suddenly withdrew.
He lay there breathing like someone who had just done the four minute mile. His dick was throbbing and ready to make penetration but she took the lead. Smiling down at him she gently lowered her well lubricated cunt onto it.
The way she rode him would have done credit to the mounted police and she kept bouncing up and down until his balls started to tingle and he felt his love lava racing up his pipe and into her cavity. She grabbed onto his fingers and screamed as he moved his ass up and down in a last minute frenzy.
When it was all over she kissed him and then lay back in his arms.
“You realize that I could be a escaped criminal or something,” he joked, as she snuggled up to him.
“I’m a cop,” she said, “I’d know if you were a bad person, I sense things like that, BUT..” she paused and looked sad for a moment, “you could be married to someone you love very much.”
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered, “And I don’t even know who I am.”
The next day Mook came home early, he could tell by the look on her face that she had news, possibly bad news.
“You are Martin John Stevens,” she blurted out, with tears in her eyes, “You’re an American and your wife’s name is Eva – she’s going to phone you in the next thirty minutes,” with this she handed him her cell phone and left.
Marty sat there all tensed up wondering what Eva was like and whether he had any kids or not. When the phone rang her almost leapt out of his seat.
“Eva is that you?” he babbled, not quite sure of himself.
“Of course it’s me you asshole, what the fuck are you up to?”
“I’ve lost my memory I can’t remember anything.”
“How very convenient for you, you probably lost all your money and this is your way of weaselling out of it – well I’ve scrounged some cash from that tight ass mother of yours and I’ve wired enough for your plane and to process your passport – but when you get back we’re through.
“Through! – I’ve been seeing someone else for quite a time now and this seems like a opportune moment to make a break.”
Marty paused for a moment’s thought, “Do we have any kids Eva?”
“Kids – are you fucking kidding me – I’ve had enough looking after you without adding to my troubles.”
“Fuck off.” With this he switched off the phone.
When Mook had finished her shift she sauntered in still wearing the same glum face.
“Did you talk to your wife?”
“Yes – I did,” he replied.
“When are you leaving?”
“I have to go to the embassy and get to get some sort of ID first, and then I’m going to pick up the money that’s been wired from my mother, who I’m afraid I don’t remember and then….”
“You’ll be going back to the States,” she interrupted.
“Not immediately,” he smiled, “because I’m not going back until I can take you with me.
“What do you mean – take you with me?”
“Well it seems my wife doesn’t want me back and so we’re going to get divorced and …” he stopped mid-sentence. “Holy shit – I just had a flash of memory – I saw my mom and dad as clear as day – O my God they are going to love you,” he cried, picking her up and whirling her around the room, “they are going to love you.”
Copyright 2015 Cristiano Caffieri