After shaving while in the shower, Bob exited to find Ma'amusa exactly where he'd left her. The bathroom had grown steamy, as he'd taken longer than usual, to come to grips with the nature of the day. He plucked her off the toilet and guided her back to his bedroom, setting her on the bed where her coat lay.

"It's pretty damp in there," he said. "I don't want you to sweat."

Ma'amusa lips were pressed flat. She said nothing, merely nodding. Despite an honest effort, her gaze kept drifting back to the piece of meat dangling near her face. It smelled like cocoa butter and mangoes, and combined with the earthy scent of the bed, she began to swoon.

"What?" Bob asked, confused, taking note of how she swayed while he dried his hair.

Her hands rose from the bed. She flexed them lightly into fists and then slowly relaxed. After a languid breath, she used them both to grab the pelvis of the naked man standing before her.

His penis was gone in a flash, its full length down her throat. She gagged and sputtered a little, but once her face found comfort in the warmth of his pubic hair, she sucked with all her might. Her hands grasped and clutched and squeezed, desperate and with purpose. She groped every part of him she could -- his glutes, his back, his balls -- rubbing him, massaging him, possessing him.

After seconds that went on forever, she reluctantly released. She angled her head up and gurgled, swallowing spit and foam. With a determined gulp, she engulfed him again. His penis had grown harder, and greatly increased in length. She struggled to cram it in, working her head from side to side.

At last, Bob's cock disappeared. To aid Ma'amusa in her quest, he held her by the back of the head, rubbing her nose in his pubes. She struggled against him feebly, burbling and releasing spit that soon dripped from his balls.

When she fought with greater fervor, he released her from his grasp. Without his monster in her mouth, she hung her head and rasped. A thin stream of mucus fell mercifully on the bath towel at her feet.

He petted her hair kindly as she fought to breathe. "Good heavens," he said. "That was... amazing."

Ma'amusa choked on spit while speaking. "Oh my God, it was. Oh God, you're huge."

"Thanks. No one's ever done that before."

She bent to retrieve the towel, using it to dry off his cock and balls while speaking to them with admiration. "No one's ever... you know?"

Bob smiled, amused by her confusion. "No one's ever swallowed me up. Not like the way you did."

Ma'amusa's eyes rose from the treasure before her to its owner's face. She smiled full and bright. "I'm happy we please you. You have no idea how much this means."

He took the towel from her and perched beside her on the bed. Choosing his words carefully, he spoke into her eyes.

"I don't get it, really. Why are you here? This is... kind of... "

Bob fumbled on his words, unsure of how to put things into context. Ma'amusa's smile grew until her caramel lips had to part, showing perfect teeth.

"I'm crazy," she said. "We admit it. I mean, we know it, and sometimes... Yeah. It scares me."

Bob narrowed his eyes, looking quizzical. Ma'amusa winced in a humorous way.

"I guess we're really aggressive. You know?" she added while shrugging, not knowing what else to say.

Bob's eyes narrowed further. "Are you boarding with your husband?"

"What makes you think we are?"

"Well, first off, just that. You keep saying 'we' all the time."

Ma'amusa fiddled with the sheets on the edge of the bed where she sat. "It's not an uncommon way to speak," she offered as an excuse.

"Don't mess with me, Mahui."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Ma'amusa, please, Mr. Rohan. I want to be your heart of stone."

He forced her gaze back on him by placing a hand upon the one of hers nearest him. "And there's another reason. You say your name is Ma'amusa."

She smiled crooked out the side of her mouth. "I like pet names. They're fun."

When I board with my wife, we have pet names too. She calls me Bob/Seas."

"How original," Ma'amusa snarked.

"And there's Reason Number Three. That last crass comment aside, you're being far too nice."

She leaned in close, speaking breathless and sweet. "So if I were meaner, you might think me to be myself?"

"You could try," he said, unconvinced.

Playfully, and with a smile, she slapped him in the face.

"Ow," he said, more from reflex than from pain. He touched the spot she struck. "What was that for?"

She reached into the neckline of her blouse, rubbing a tender breast. "That's for biting my boob, you bastard. It still really hurts."

Bob smiled apologetically. "Oh. I guess I'm sorry. Seas kind of likes it rough."

"Well we do not, Mr. Rohan."

"You said 'we' again."

"I'm a sensitive girl," she continued, trying to deflect.

"You're also a liar if you don't tell me where Makani is right now."

Ma'amusa pursed her lips while still holding her tit, thinking about what to say.

"He's nearby. We have a nice van. He's kicking back with Maggie, our therapist."

"While you sit with me and board."

Bob moved in with force, sitting close enough to press his hip to his guest. Her eyes widened as she inhaled deep, alarmed but under control.

"Do not lie, Mahui. Or Makani or whoever you are."

She begged. "Ma'amusa. Please Mr. Rohan, sir. La'u Ma'amusa for you."

"And what does Makani like being called when you board?"

She blinked, and finally confessed. "He is Ma'a Taua. My precious gem."

Bob nodded while assessing her story. "And I suppose now, he's my precious too."

Ma'amusa expression showed so much contrition, that it looked for a moment she might grovel. "Please, Mr. Rohan. I'm begging. You mustn't tell a soul."

"You said you want my trust. You're still failing miserably."

"I know! I know! I'm sorry!"

Her eyes darted as if seeking escape, or perhaps a place to hide. He put an understanding hand on her knee, but instead of calming her, it drove her further into panic.

She stood up suddenly, as if to run, but sensing kindness, she tried to relax. "Mr. Rohan," she began, raking his nudity with her gaze. "Will you please help me with my coat?"

"You don't have to leave," he replied, complying nonetheless.

"I know. But we'll feel better if we have it on."

He performed the task, fussing with the collar and hood to keep her in his clutches.

"Could you please fix my hair?" she asked, seeking closeness from him as well.

"I want the truth," he demanded, pressing her face to his chest while laying her hair out on her back.

"Have you ever had sex with your mate while boarding?" Ma'amusa asked, keeping her face pressed to him.

Bob stroked her hair, making scents escape. "Of course not. It's impossible."

She draped her arms around him, begging for a hug. He did not comply.

"That's right," she said. "It's a shame. The worst part, I think."

He said nothing, making her continue. "This morning I woke up a wreck. I actually couldn't sleep."

"Because of me?" he asked.

Ma'amusa laughed sweet and sassy. "No sir. Not for that. Although if it were the reason, it would be nice. Today is an important day."

She nestled her chin in the hair on his chest to look up at his eyes. "Do you know what I do for a living?" she quizzed.

"Well. You attack men," he replied as a joke.

"We do," she said, squeezing his butt. "But only you, Mr. Rohan, and I swear it to be true. I could eat you like candy."

He scrunched down to kiss her forehead. "Mmm," he moaned in bliss. "You're going to get that dreaded pecker trail on your skirt if this keeps up."

"Oh, I don't care," she blurted, nestling her face back in his bristly chest. "I'll sit in the bathroom later and lick it all off."

Bob laughed so hard, it made Ma'amusa's ears hurt. Once done, she confessed further.

"I'm a history professor. Ancient world history, to be precise. I'm seeking tenure at Concord University. What do you think about that?"

"No kidding?" he asked, impressed, while kissing the top of her head.

"Yes. It is no kidding. Today I'm giving a presentation on the Roman Army, and how they instilled uniformity across Europe and the Middle East. How, thanks to the way they behaved for over a thousand years, the world we live in is as it is today."

"Hmm. Sounds interesting. I'd like to see it."

"Ah!" Ma'amusa said as a gutteral response. "I knew it!" In her enthusiasm, she nearly climbed into his arms.

"What is it? What did I say?"

She pecked at every square inch of his face, plastering him with kisses. When done there, she worked on his neck, heading towards his chest.

"Okay," she said as she pecked. "This is Ma'a Taua. When I saw La'u Ma'amusa struggle this morning with so much as putting on pants, I knew I had to get in her head, to see what was the matter."

"And it was you!" Ma'amusa said, sounding more like herself. She released Bob and paced in small circles, working the air with her hands to help her think.

"Okay. Okay," she repeated. "Here it is." She ran her words together. "I hate where we live. It's a dump. But we can't afford anything nicer. In fact, we have to move to Orlando and live in another dump because pre-season starts in a week and we can't afford to rent two places.

"I'm hoping... my Ma'a Taua is hoping, that is... we're hoping he can get franchised when his rookie contract expires. It will be a big deal. Millions of dollars for sure."

Ma'amusa grabbed Bob by the shoulders, placing her face an inch from his. The pleading and wanting and begging in her eyes never shone so bright.

"But my chance for tenure is now. If I don't stay here and pursue it, everything will be lost. Next year, maybe we can afford two places, but right now we can afford only one. And that place must be Orlando, so La'u Ma'a Taua can play football.

"So please, Mr. Rohan. Please! Will you let me live with you?"