Fated

This story contains a significant amount of violence, although it is not gratuitous. If violence isn’t your thing — well, you’ve been warned.

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

The odds of two people with the unusual talents, backgrounds, and proclivities of Lizbeth Portis and Rob Barnard (neither their birth name) moving to Tompkins, Missouri — population 16,169 according to the most recent census, and roughly two and ⅓ hours’ drive from St. Louis — within two months of each other were probably about 200 million to 1. However, the odds of winning the Mega Millions lottery are about the same, and that happens. In any event, it did occur, some say for the betterment of Tompkins, Missouri, and even mankind; others may quibble with that.

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

Rob Barnard was born in Eugene, Oregon as Jeremy Fulton. Jeremy was many different things at many different times; athlete, delinquent, soldier, lover, badass, assassin, man of mystery, and entrepreneur. He started out as one of two children in a decent middle class family, but when his father suffered some hard times and started drinking, his life devolved into disorder. He took up sports to try and overcome the chaos at home, and in High School started working with a track and field club.

Due to his natural ability and intensity Rob may well have become an Olympian in the decathlon. That never came about; however, when just before his 18th birthday, after he had just graduated High School, he killed his father with a javelin when the father was beating his mother and younger sister with the butt of a pistol.

Due to the extenuating circumstances, a good lawyer hired by the sympathetic affluent volunteer director of the track and field club, and the fact that he was not yet the age of majority he would have skated on the charge with only a few overnights in jail were it not for a crusty asshole prosecutor and an equally cantankerous judge. Still he did escape prison by volunteering for the Army when given the choice of three years in prison or his enlistment was posited by His Honor.

The Army recognized the many aptitudes the six feet 1/2 inch, 188 rock-hard pounds, young Jeremy possessed, and he served in the special forces for more than two years. At that time a recruiter from an acronymic government Agency whose budget does not appear in any line item anywhere within the government financial reports, snapped him up for the Agency.

Over the next decade Jeremy travelled many places in the world performing high-risk, and often illegal, tasks for the Agency. While he didn’t particularly savor his work he felt that he was “doing good” and serving his country; that is until the fateful night that he was tasked with killing not only a foreign male politician who was considered a threat to the United States but also his wife and two daughters in order to make it look like a rival organization has orchestrated the hit. Jeremy balked, he was threatened, and when he sent two operatives, who had been directed to kill him and finish the job, home in body bags Jeremy determined that it was time for a different line of work.

Jeremy had some minor reconstructive work done on his face — changing his disarming rugged facial good looks into more refined and even more handsome looks — and went into hiding. That was easy to do considering the skills he had developed over the last decade; he became Rob Barnard, entrepreneur. In Tompkins he ran an Internet consulting and product-delivery business that also had a store front. The business had two branches, one that specialized in weaponry, the other in sports equipment. His endeavors were financed by years of saving his payments and “performance bonuses” from his employer, and unreported “confiscations” of cash and convertible securities from some of his criminal victims. His entrepreneurial endeavor was more avocation than profession since his funds were more than sufficient to last the rest of his natural life, but it was necessary for Rob to have the appearance of an average working man so as not to draw attention to himself.

While Rob had had a number of extended sexual — maybe even romantic — relationships in the past, given his line of work none lasted very long. In order to keep a low profile in Tompkins Rob didn’t really date locally. His sexual activities were confined to trips to St. Louis or Springfield to consort with loose women picked up in bars, or “professionals.”

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

Lizbeth Portis was born Amelia Worthington in Princeton, New Jersey to two Princeton University professors, one with a PhD in Physics, the other in Chemistry. In actuality, she always got the impression that she was “bred” into existence more than “born,” since her parents’ relationship always seemed formal and academic, rather than romantic. Since both of her parents had IQs in the neighborhood of 140 it was not a surprise that Amelia was intelligent; what was a surprise was how intelligent. At the time that she was first tested the highest IQ ever certified was 228. When hers first registered almost that high at 210, it was assumed that there was some error in the test or some aberration. By the time that she was tested the last time at age 15 it was finally certified as 218 placing her in the top one ten-millionth of one percent in the world. That corresponded to her scores on the battery of other tests that her parents seemed to revel in, and Amelia seemed to detest (although she tried hard on the tests in order to please her parents), including a perfect 50 on the Wonderlic test.

Amelia was an athletically built comely girl — having gotten all of the best physical attributes of her ordinary-looking parents — but was socially awkward for many reasons. One was because her parents themselves were hardly smooth socially; two was that her parents were too involved in her life and unnecessarily cloistered her; three was because although her parents established an exercise routine for Amelia since they considered the mind-body relationship important they never allowed her to participate in team sports; and four was that it was hard to be a freshman in High School at age 12, and a freshman at Princeton at age 14 1/2, and have anything close to a normal social life.

At the ripe old age of 18, while Amelia was already in the PhD program in computer science at Princeton, to celebrate her birthday she defied her parents’ wishes and went out on the town in New York City, ill-equipped socially and emotionally for the journey. It ended in disaster. She witnessed a murder by two Gorsky Russian Mob hitmen, fled for her life, and luckily escaped. She was turned over by NYC police to Federal authorities who put her, and her unwilling parents, into protective custody in what was supposedly a safe house.

The Gorsky mob was very motivated to have Amelia eliminated since her testimony could put the son of the “Pakhan” (big boss), Mikael Gorsky, in prison, so they paid off or blackmailed two Federal agents to find out the location of her safe house. Then a dozen Gorsky thugs killed Amelia’s parents and the two loyal agents guarding them. Amelia escaped only because one of the agents held off the hitmen long enough for her to bolt through a tunnel to a nearby property.

Given her intellect, and the fact that she was able to drain her bank account with her ATM card before tossing away all of her identification, she was able to successfully make it out of the New Jersey — New York area and establish a series of new identities. After nine years on the run, having moved six times and having set up her own computer programming business over the Internet with no contact with clients, she arrived in Tompkins hoping that Lizbeth Portis was her last identity necessary, and that this was her last move.

While Lizbeth had had a number of casual sexual encounters over the years simply to quell her animal needs, she never had had a real relationship with a man.

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

Rob’s store front was near the main market area of Tompkins, and when not working out at the only gym in town, reading, or actually doing some work, he enjoyed people watching either through the large plate glass window of his store, or on an outside bench. He did notice when Lizbeth moved to Tompkins about six weeks after he did, and found her intriguing. Given his training by the mysterious government Agency he had worked for, he was very observant; he noticed Lizbeth coming to the market every Tuesday and Friday, always about 11 a. m. She seemed to be very polite, but solitary, avoiding extended contact with anyone.

While Tompkins was a normally quiet, safe place — one of the reasons that both Rob and Lizbeth had located there — like everyplace else it had some toughs who considered themselves badasses, and who caused trouble. After Rob had been observing Lizbeth — with increasing interest — for about two months the four biggest miscreants in Tompkins harassed Lizbeth during her normal Tuesday shopping excursion. The four seemed to be about 20 to 25 years old, tattooed, and surly. Lizbeth unsuccessfully tried to ignore them, so she simply left the area without completing her shopping.

While one of Rob’s main goals was to keep a low profile, other factors came into play when he saw the troublemakers slyly follow Lizbeth to her SUV, and get into their own car. Rob had found out enough about Lizbeth to know where she lived — about ten minutes outside of town in a beautiful remote wooded area — so he got on his motorcycle and took off in that direction.

About five minutes out of town Rob caught up with Lizbeth’s unwilling caravan and saw the reprobates’ vehicle cut in front of hers, causing her to stop. As Lizbeth sat in her vehicle the four thugs got out of their car and approached her. By this time Rob was already off his bike and immediately confronted the nearest guy.

“What do you think you’re doing, cutting her off, asshole?” Rob posited.

“Mind your own fucking business, we’re just getting a date,” the asshole replied.

Not surprisingly, that wasn’t a sufficient response for Rob so he kicked the side of the guy’s knee, and as he screamed and collapsed stomped on his tibia, breaking it.

The largest of the four, probably four inches taller and sixth pounds heavier than Rob — was next to the disabled guy. He charged Rob. Rob simply sidestepped him and simultaneously tripped him, and when he hit the ground Rob kicked him in the back of the head, ringing his chimes.

A third miscreant ran around the car toward Rob exposing a knife with what appeared to be a six inch blade yelling “I’ll cut you to pieces motherfucker!” That prediction proved false when Rob produced a blackjack from a rear pocket and both broke the knife-wielder’s jaw and knocked him unconscious before the knife got within a foot of Rob.

The fourth hoodlum was apparently the smartest of the quartet since he tried to run past Lizbeth’s car to get away. Unfortunately for him she opened her SUV door as he was attempting to run by, smacking it into him, and he hit the dirt. This gave Rob time to reach him and render him senseless with an elbow strike to his left temple.

Lizbeth got out of her vehicle, holding her Glock 19 Gen4 at her side with a bemused look on her face. “While the display of your pugilistic abilities was profound there really was no reason for it. I am safety-conscious, always carry a handgun, and am entirely capable of defending myself,” she said.

“Would you have shot them?” Rob asked with a sly grin.

“Without vacillation or regret,” she replied with her own sly grin.

“Still, just think of all of the trouble I saved you. Whenever there is a gunshot victim there is an endless stream of paperwork, interviews, and unpleasantness. I have graciously saved you from all of that bother, M’Lady,” Rob grinned and bowed.

“So you’re a modern day paladin?” Lizbeth snickered.

“I live only to serve,” Rob bowed again.

After a slight pause Lizbeth holstered her weapon and gave Rob a once-over. He really was a good-looking man, and while Lizbeth didn’t necessarily want a relationship with a man, since this was hopefully her last move she saw no harm in at least investigating him further.

“I’m Elizabeth Portis,” she said, extending her hand.f

“Rob Barnard,” was his reply, shaking hers.

“I suggest that you collect the miscreants’ cell phones and provide them to me, at which point I may extend you an invitation,” she continued.

Not knowing the reason for the request but captivated by the most intensely azure eyes he had ever seen, Rob pulled the cellphones out of the pockets of the four attackers, two unconscious, one writhing in pain, the other barely able to move. Lizbeth played with each phone from between 30 seconds and two minutes, and then returned them to Rob with the request that he deposit them in the front seat of their car.

Then taking out what looked like a burner phone Lizbeth called 911 and reported an accident at their rural location.

“Would you like to follow me to my house for some lemonade as a thank you to you for saving g me from being overwhelmed by paperwork and interviews?” Lizbeth asked Rob.

“I would — but I thought that you were safety conscious. You don’t really know me.”

“I have no legitimate concerns; you see I am an excellent shot and I have two trained unneutered male Malinoises.”

“What the hell is a Malinoises?” Rob chuckled.

“That is the correct plural for Malinois,” Lizbeth replied. “Surely you’ve heard of that dog breed.”

In fact Rob had not only heard of the breed — often recognized as the best overall Army and police dog in the world — he’d seen them in action. Rob grinned. “Yeah, I’ve heard of them. Let me move my bike so that you can back up around their car and the prone groaners, and then I’ll follow you.”

“When you arrive at my residence do not alight from your motorcycle until I have greeted and commanded my dogs — they are very protective,” Lizbeth voiced as she re-entered her vehicle.

“No problem with that,” Rob said to himself as he put his helmet on, recalling the last Malinois attack that he had witnessed; “no problem with that.”

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

While it was obvious that the Malinoises strictly obeyed Lizbeth’s commands — delivered to them in a language that Rob didn’t recognize — they eyed him suspiciously and flanked Lizbeth as they sat down. “Are your dogs always this alert?” Rob asked.

“You’re the first person I’ve allowed into my house since I moved to Tompkins,” Lizbeth replied, “so they are very cautious. As long as you don’t try to grab me,” she chuckled, “they won’t attack.”

“Good to know,” Rob laughed.

Over lemonade and cookies Rob and Lizbeth had one of the more bizarre conversations of either of their lives. Lizbeth’s vocabulary and normal manner and cadence of speaking were the most intellectual Rob had ever experienced, to the extent that he even had to ask her to define some words, such as “abjure,” “calumny,” and “equanimity.” At the same time he was mesmerized — a word he did understand, but whose impact he had never experienced before — by her intense eyes and self-confident demeanor.

Lizbeth found Rob equally fascinating for other reasons. Most had to do with his physical appearance and the manner in which he had so easily dispatched the miscreants, and the obvious lies he told to downplay his clear physical superiority. Others included his aura of mystery and his obvious cleverness even though he espoused — and she accepted — a lack of formal education.

After a good two hours of conversation — the longest one-on-one and face-to-face conversation Lizbeth had had since she fled the safe house — the last vestiges of food and drink on the table had been consumed. Then, in a completely conversational manner, Lizbeth shocked the shit out of Rob.

“I suppose that even though I was fully capable of defending myself a paladin such as yourself may expect a more desirable reward than lemonade and cookies. Considering the obvious covetousness that your eyes portray, would you consider sexual intercourse to be more sufficient?”

For one of the few times in his life Rob was rendered speechless. As he stared at Lizbeth with his mouth agape and sweat beads starting to form on his brow she seemed to delight in his angst. “Sexual intercourse is a simple biological function. I do not consider it anything except that. You apparently have a hormonal reaction to my appearance and perhaps my personality, and I find you physically attractive. Is there some reason why you wouldn’t want to have carnal knowledge of me?”

“No…uh…no…uh…yeah,” Rob inarticulately replied.

“Unless you are in a hurry, perhaps you would like to accompany me for an exercise session for Genghis and Attila, and then we can retire to my bedroom,” Lizbeth responded.

“Uh — you call your dogs Genghis and Attila?”

“Yes — they were perhaps the most intimidating names that I could conjure, and since intimidation of others is one of the main reasons — aside from companionship — that I have them, why not?” she smiled.

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

Rob was amazed at the setup in Lizbeth’s back yard — if you could call it that — specifically for the dogs. In an enclosure that had to be two acres in area — although the fence was clearly not high enough to contain the Malinoises if they wanted to jump it — was every type of obstacle, equipment, and training device that a dog could desire, and even a mechanical “rabbit” and track. Lizbeth joined the dogs’ exercise regime with alacrity and enticed Rob to participate in some of the activities after giving him assurance that the dogs would not attack. After an hour of intense exercise, with the dogs panting, and the humans sweating, Lizbeth gave each of Genghis and Attila a cow bone which appeared to have about a pound of meat on it. They eagerly started attacking their treats while Lizbeth entreated Rob to follow her into the house after giving the dogs a command in what appeared to be a yet different not-understood language than the previous commands Lizbeth had given them.

“Are the dogs going to stay outside?” Rob questioned Lizbeth as they alighted the stairs to her bedroom.

“Unless they receive a mechanical audio command, in which case they will enter through the dog door at the back of the house,” she replied. “Don’t look so concerned; they will not bother us while we copulate.”

When they entered Lizbeth’s huge bedroom, with attached large and ornate bathroom, as she unstrapped her holster and put it and her Glock on a dresser she smiled and said “How about a shower?”

As Lizbeth unabashedly disrobed in front of Rob he was amazed not only by her lack of modesty, but by how alluring her body was. While in the jeans and long-sleeved top she had worn to the market she was certainly lithe and attractive, her garments had hidden a truly spectacular female form including surprisingly ponderous east-west tits, a sparse bush with protruding clitoris, supple hips, a bubble ass, and a pleasing empty triangle defined by her thighs and crotch. His dick got more rock hard than he could ever remember before in his life.

Once they were in the stream of lukewarm water in the shower, Lizbeth initiated both body and lip contact. While they did actually wash each other off, there was also much finger and hand play. At one point when Lizbeth encircled Rob’s cock with her right hand while playing with his testicles with her left she smiled and muttered “I’ll bet that you’re not a man that worries about the adequacy of his genitalia.”

“You’re going to find that out in spades,” he growled as he moved a finger into her pussy.

Rob and Lizbeth had barely dried off by the time that they hit the bed. Viewing Lizbeth in the market, and even talking to her at her table, Rob had assumed that Lizbeth was probably sexually inhibited. In fact, she was a tigress.

As they spontaneously got into a sixty-nine position Rob went after her pussy with all fingers, his lips, his tongue, and even his nose. In turn, Lizbeth started sucking his cock like she was trying to remove chrome from a trailer hitch. She orgasmed first, with a ferocity that rendered her incapable of continuing to suck his cock, rather causing her to scream in ecstasy. Rob took that opportunity to rotate his body 180° and in one stroke unceremoniously stab his steel cock into her lubricated vagina. Uniquely in his experience Lizbeth had a second orgasm on top of her first from penetration alone.

After the first three strokes in her honeypot Rob felt Lizbeth’s apparently powerful pc muscles clamp on his cock. As he stroked in and out he fondled or sucked her nipples, while she bucked upwardly and pulsated her pc muscles. He came with the roar of a lion while she orgasmed a third time, rendering both barely aware of their surroundings.

After an indeterminate time in a mutual haze, Rob gently rolled off Lizbeth while she softly pushed his torso, until they were side-by-side, at which point she buried her head in his shoulder. Despite the relative speed of the copulation, they were both sweaty due to its intensity.

After the passage of another indeterminate period of time Rob turned his head toward Lizbeth and lifted her chin up while staring into her eyes. “That was the most gratifying copulation of my life,” she smiled.

“You’re a fucking goddess, and a goddess at fucking,” he grinned back.

“I am embarrassed and perturbed, however, that I didn’t have the cognizance to require the use of a condom; I have never made that mistake before,” she responded, this time without a smile.

“I suggest that we both get tested so that we don’t have any apprehension about not using a condom,” Rob responded.

“That presupposes that we will have carnal relations in the future,” Lizbeth replied with a straight face.

“I really, really, really hope that is the case,” he replied while intently staring at her.

“Why don’t we spend the night together — and see if there is a mutual interest in collaborating in the future,” she nonchalantly replied.

“OK,” he chuckled. “However, I will want to — as you call it — ‘copulate’ again several times tonight. But first I want to fuck — I don’t think that ‘copulate’ applies here — your tits.”

Lizbeth had a puzzled expression on her face, so Rob continued — “You mean that no one has fucked your fantabulous luscious east-west tits before?”

“Actually, no,” she replied somewhat perplexed. “How would I receive satisfaction from that even if you were able to ejaculate?”

“Let’s try it and see,” Rob chuckled. “Do you have any Vaseline, lotion, or other lubricant?”

“There is some in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” Lizbeth replied.

Rob started to get up but when he saw two pairs of brown slightly almond-shaped eyes staring up at him from the bedroom floor. He quickly got back on the bed.

“Uh…Lizbeth…uh…Genghis and Attila are in the room.”

Lizbeth laughed. “I’ll get the lubricant.” She hopped out of bed and gave the dogs another command so that they quickly exited the room. She came back with a bottle of lotion. “I hope that this will be satisfactory,” she smiled.

Rob gently massaged her tits, getting a series of pleasure groans from her, especially when he flicked, lightly bit, or twisted a nipple. Then he lubed up the valley between what he concluded had to be C+ or D cup breasts, as well as his already now rock hard cock. “Push your boobs together,” Rob softly said as he slid his cock between her honkers.

Moving leisurely at first, Rob pistoned his cock in her valley, occasionally moving a hand from supporting his body over hers to flick or pinch a nipple. Soon she started oohing and aahing, causing him to stroke more vigorously. He was in heaven when he felt the surge of seminal fluid boiling up from his testicles, and was pleasantly surprised that Lizbeth’s sounds were becoming louder and she was becoming more animated. By the time that he ejaculated on her chest and chin with another roar that the king of the jungle would have been proud of Lizbeth obviously had some intense feeling herself since she writhed and moaned.

When spent, Rob dismounted and lay next to Lizbeth, turning her face to his to kiss her. “I hope that you enjoyed it half as much as I did,” Rob smiled. “It was, without equivocation, the best titty fuck of my life.”

Lizbeth smiled back. “Actually, I was surprised that I had an orgasm from our mating. While it wasn’t as intense as a vaginal climax, it definitely was a good feeling, enhanced because it was so obvious that you really enjoyed yourself, and somehow seeing your excitement and passion made me blissful. I’ve never considered myself a particularly sensuous and sultry person, but you made me feel like I was the most desirably woman on the planet.”

“You actually may be,” Rob chuckled. “You actually may be.”

After another shower together, Rob and Lizbeth actually slept for a few hours, before Rob got a boner in his sleep thinking about his two scrumptious sexual encounters with Lizbeth, softly woke her up by kissing her all over, and then turned her on her hands and knees and banged her brains out doggy style. He came with a savagery that surpassed even his previous two ejaculations in and onto the goddess that called herself Lizbeth, inspired by the most exotic sound he had ever experienced — her pendulous boobs slapping into each other, seemingly encouraging him to perform like a capacity crowd clapping at a sports venue.

The next morning Lizbeth woke Rob up by sucking his cock and then she mounted him reverse cowgirl. He stuck his thumb in her asshole as they synchronously came. At that moment he felt like he could die and his life would be complete.

After the two lovers took their third shower together and made intentional body contact while they were making and eating breakfast, the mood was light. Trying to keep it that way Rob said “I hope that this isn’t the only time that we can sleep together; but if it is, I can die a happy man.”

Lizbeth chuckled back “To be precise, there wasn’t much sleeping, now, was there? However, it was an enjoyable experience. I don’t see why we can’t have other episodes as long as it continues to be just a biological function with no expectation of a long-term relationship.”

That is not what Rob wanted to hear, because in just one day getting to know — and ravage — this woman he thought that for the first time in his life he might want a long term relationship. His response was “Let’s see how it goes. I assume that you would like me to go for an STD test since I am bold enough to also assume that you would like to exchange bodily fluids again and not require a piece of latex between us.”

“I would appreciate that — but I will also get tested to put your mind at ease.”

“Actually, there is no reason for that, but if you do, so much the better.”

As Rob was getting ready to leave, under the watchful eyes of Genghis and Attila he gave Lizbeth a soul-searching kiss. Just before he exited she said “Wait one minute please Rob,” as she got out her phone. After playing with some buttons for a couple of minutes she chuckled. “You never asked why I wanted the phones of the four miscreants. To respond to your never posited interrogatory, it was so that I could track their electronic communications since they didn’t seem to be the type to just let bygones be bygones. In fact there is chatter among them about how to get revenge; give me your cell number and I’ll advise you once they crystalize their plans.”

“Sure would appreciate it,” Rob smiled, and then gave Lizbeth his number, and got hers in return.

“You don’t seem to be too worried or apprehensive,” she said when she viewed his calm demeanor. “Someday I may extract from you why you can be so calm about that.”

“Listen, goddess — if you promised to do to me again what you did last night I’d probably tell you anything that you asked,” Rob chuckled before placing another lip-scorcher on her.

As Lizbeth watched Rob ride off on his motorcycle she wondered why she had a funny feeling in her nether regions. Rob didn’t wonder why he had a similar feeling.

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

Over the next week Rob and Lizbeth talked — very briefly — over the phone each day, and both got “all clears” on their STD tests. Lizbeth wondered why in the past she considered phone calls intrusions on her life and privacy, but despite trying to deny it to herself looked forward to Rob’s calls — especially since he made them short so as not to interfere with her routine. She was even actually pleased when he joined her the next Friday for her shopping ritual, and she even let him carry some purchases to her vehicle even though she complained that “It isn’t necessary, I can take care of myself.”

Eight days after the best night of his life — and though Lizbeth was still in partial denial hers too — she called Rob. She got right to the point.

“Rob, the miscreants have formulated their plan. It is very juvenile and doesn’t show any real intelligence or even cleverness, however it is possible that it could work so I want to share it with you.”

“Thanks — when are they going to spring it on me?”

“This Sunday, early in the morning.”

“Tell you what — why don’t you let me pick up some dinner and I can come to your place tonight and you can reveal it to me and we can mutually plan my response.”

After a pregnant pause Lizbeth asked “Are you expecting another night of wanton copulation?”

“I’m not expecting it; however, I would love it to happen.”

Lizbeth actually giggled — Rob had never heard her giggle, and she didn’t recall ever giggling before. “OK; as long as the food isn’t Chinese.”

“See you at 7 p. m.?” he inquired.

“That would be fine,” she concluded before terminating the call.

Rob showed up with lasagna that just needed a short re-heat, Italian bread, an Olive-garden-like salad, flowers, and a rawhide for each of the dogs.

Lizbeth was stunned, and seemingly flustered by the dozen white roses, but quickly put them in a vase. Since the dogs would not take the rawhides from anyone but Lizbeth, she took them from Rob and gave them to the very grateful Malinoises, although they still eyed Rob warily while they gnawed at their prizes.

Rob kept the conversation light as they ate dinner, and he was pleased that Lizbeth genuinely liked the food. After dinner they sat in Lizbeth’s living room and discussed the miscreants’ planned revenge. Lizbeth was right — it was almost pathetic, although it possibly could have worked if Rob was clueless. Since now he clearly was not clueless, it had no chance. The main discussion was how bad Rob should disable them before the police became involved.

When they finished their discussion, she and Rob went outside with the dogs, and even though now there wasn’t any significant natural light, the dogs enjoyed their backyard for a half hour before Lizbeth called them in. At that point Rob picked her up and smiled. “I think that I’ll carry my bounty upstairs,” he grinned.

“So you think that acting like a Homo Neanderthalensis and calling me your bounty that I would be willing to allow your penis to penetrate my vagina again?”

“And fuck your tits too,” Rob smiled.

“I should send you packing, I believe is the correct expression, but for some reason my estrogen and progesterone levels have spiked. I guess that I’ll have to succumb to your Paleolithic man actions and try to enjoy myself,” she sneered.

Enjoy herself she did. Since they both knew what was coming and were already comfortable with the other’s body the three pussy fucks and the one tit fuck were even more enjoyable than they were during their first encounter; and they were topped off by Rob (who had napped during the day to be ready for all night pleasure) giving Lizbeth oral orgasms between each copulation so that she was barely able to function the next morning.

As they kissed goodbye Lizbeth yawned and said “After you ravaged me the entire night I’ll need to nap before I can get any work done. Let me know by nine a. m. Sunday how it turns out.”

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

Rob had set up infrared cameras at his house waiting for the break-in at his back door, and had even left it unlocked to facilitate their entry. As the gun wielding leader — the biggest guy who Rob had before tripped and kicked in the back of the head — entered the kitchen he fell over a trip wire head first into a pan of cement. The next guy — the one with the knife both before and then — also tripped over the same wire, and as he fell knifed his buddy in the back. The third guy — the one Lizbeth had hit with her car door — moved around his prone buddies but before he could go any significant distance was blasted by a load of rubber buckshot compliments of Rob’s twelve gauge shotgun. Rob discharged some more rubber bullets into the knife wielder.

Hearing the shotgun blasts followed by the terrifying sound of a shotgun being pumped, the fourth miscreant — the one with a cast on his left lower leg from Rob’s breaking-stomp — turned and tried to run out the back door. He fell going down the back steps and fortuitously — from Rob’s perspective, not his — broke his right leg. By that time Rob had already called 911. Before the cops and ambulances got there Rob turned off the cameras and removed the trip wire.

All four of the miscreants went under police guard to the hospital for treatment of their various injuries. The biggest guy’s was the most serious — a knife wound in his back from his tripping buddy. All would spend real time in prison for at least breaking-and-entering, and perhaps attempted murder, especially since three of them already had extensive criminal records. They would not be bothering Rob or Lizbeth again.

Rob got back from filing a formal complaint at the police station and turning over his camera footage about 8 a. m. He immediately called Lizbeth. After relating the entire tale she effused “Why don’t you come over to celebrate?”

When Rob left Lizbeth’s house about 9 a. m. Tuesday, he thought that his genitals might need a week to recover.

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

Despite Lizbeth’s continued attempts to tell herself that she was just satisfying her hormonal needs, her relationship with Rob progressed to the point that after she had known him for about six months she was forced to concede that she enjoyed his company almost as much out of bed as in bed. She was secretly pleased that Genghis and Attila had also warmed up to him, even though with a command from her they would still attack. She considered dogs to be good judges of character, and that confirmed her opinion of Rob.

For Rob’s part, he was in love. Lizbeth was by far the most unique and fascinating person he had ever met in his life, and although it was clear that she was reticent to love herself — her background had never prepared her for even the possibility — he was sure that she had the capacity for it. However, there was something about her that was mysterious and that she held back; and since he was in the same position, he thought that he might be able to coax it out of her. Perhaps if he dealt with what was holding her back from becoming almost normal theirs could be a permanent relationship.

Early afternoon on a Saturday six months and three days after their first tryst Rob arrived at Lizbeth’s house with the largest collection of flowers that she had ever seen, professionally arranged in a beautiful crystal vase. Lizbeth couldn’t help herself from oohing and aahing about their beauty and tastefulness, and even shedding a small tear. After prominently displaying them and giving Rob a kiss she asked “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s the occasion?”

“The occasion is that we’re going to tell each other the real story of our lives. We’re not going to leave anything out.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re entire background is fake, Lizbeth. You’re not from Idaho, you didn’t go to USC, you have some terrible secret in your past, and you’ve been on the run from something or someone for a long time. I know, because of my real past — which you know nothing about — I was trained to spot fakes. Whether you like it or not you’re very important to me now; I want a long term relationship with you. While you would be loath to admit it to yourself you want one with me too. So we’re coming clean with each other. While I don’t need it, if you do, get out a bottle of wine or Scotch, or whatever else will loosen your tongue.”

Lizbeth argued for ten minutes, but Rob wouldn’t be denied. She could feel the need to unburden herself after a decade of running and not telling anyone or getting close to them. Finally she said “OK; you first, and then I’ll think about it.”

Rob was convinced that if he told his story she would succumb, so he sat her down next to him on the couch in her living room, held both of her hands, and started his story: “I was born in Eugene, Oregon as Jeremy Fulton…”

Rob left out only the goriest details of his life and escapades as he related his entire story to an ever more wide-eyed Lizbeth. When he concluded her first comment was “So that’s why you so easily dispatched the four miscreants and never showed any fear about anything the entire time that I’ve known you.”

“Now you — let me hear your story,” Rob smiled.

“I’m…I’m…not…sure…that I can do it,” she stuttered for one of the only times in her life.

“Maybe you just need a little relaxation, and then you can,” Rob smiled, kneeling in front of her and parting her thighs.

Despite Lizbeth’s half-hearted protests it wasn’t long before Rob had her underpants off and he was licking, fingering, sucking, and abusing Lizbeth’s pussy and clitoris. After she came twice, he put her on her hands and knees on the couch, penetrated her from behind, and after a minute or two of stroking in and out produced a small thin vibrator from his back pocket and slowly introduced it into her ass.

Lizbeth had had all of the most intense orgasms of her life courtesy of Rob’s ministrations. For some she was rendered comatose; for some she was on a high for a half hour afterword; for some she thought that she could never reach that level of erotic satisfaction ever again. This time she surpassed all of those times. With Rob feverishly stroking in and out of her vagina while he flicked her clit, and with the vibrator energizing not just her asshole but her entire nether regions, she came before, during, and after Rob’s ejaculation into her.

After he withdrew and recovered, Rob carried Lizbeth’s limp and moaning body up to her bedroom, stripped her, and showered with her. They cuddled for a half hour before she recovered her composure. Then with a smile she stared at Rob and said “I feel like a wet noodle. You’ve removed my spine. I can’t resist you — so here goes: I was born in Princeton, New Jersey as Amelia Worthington…”

There were times during Lizbeth’s recounting of her story where she cried or sighed, especially when talking about her fear of the Gorskys, but she got through the salient parts in an hour. Rob simply listened; he never asked more than a couple of questions, and never judged. She concluded with “That gets us up-to-date when whether I like it or not I am having a very fulfilling — sexual and otherwise — life with a remarkable man.”

“Are you ready to not worry about ever running again?” Rob asked, holding her chin so she had to look at him.

“Yes,” she sighed.

“Do you love me and want a relationship with me because I love you more than anything or anyone else ever?”

After a pregnant pause, “Yes,” she said as tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“Then let’s figure this thing out,” Rob smiled, lifting her out of bed.