I adjusted the wide straps of the silk sundress and examined my reflection in the full length mirror. I wasn't used to seeing myself this dressed up - hadn't had reason to wear anything floor length or even semi-formal in a long time, but I supposed I looked all right. The dress is off-white silk crepe, has a princess styled bodice flowing into a floaty kind of skirt to the ankle with a slit up one side for walking without tripping. The neckline is medium-low, definitely not cleavage-falling-out low which I would never be comfortable wearing, but low enough. I had my hair down, the right side drawn back and fastened with a hairpin trembling with tiny diamante butterflies. I added a matching pendant on an almost invisible gold chain and matching earrings, and considered myself ready for the Governor's party.

The squawk box alerted me that Russell's car was at the front gate. I buzzed them through, picked up my evening bag, grabbed the bolero jacket that matched the dress, and was out the front door. Instead of the anonymous driver with a huge SUV, there was Mr. Crowe himself getting out of a silver BMW sportster. "Eek!" I exclaimed, grinning all over my face like an idiot.

He laughed, his eyes going over me from head to toe, "You look incredible," he said. He took my hand and sniffed my perfume, "You smell incredible too, luv," then he hugged and kissed me. "I missed you," he said into my ear.

"I missed you,too," I said. We stood back, just smiling at one another. He was in an Armani tux over a black silk open-necked shirt with gold cufflinks and a heavy gold Maltese cross on a braided chain. "You look wonderful," I said sincerely. I also sniffed, "Oh, Aqua di Gio?"

"Yup, Giorgio gives it to me - do you think he's trying to hint that I smell bad?"

I giggled and shook my head no, "I think he's promoting his cologne, mainly."

Russell bowed me into the passenger seat with a flourish, closed the door, careful not to catch my skirt, and walked around to climb back into the driver's seat. "Good, I was a bit worried about that because I know he thinks I dress for shit most of the time."

"Gosh, I don't know what would make him think that," I teased, trying to fasten the seat belt so my dress wasn't crushed. He helped me adjust it. "Thanks," I relaxed and turned slightly so I could look at him more easily. I hoped I wasn't smiling like a dimwit.

We drove out onto the Interstate and headed for Austin and the Governor's Mansion. "I saw you on Leno," I told him. He hadn't called me after the show the night before, but I figured he'd been really tired and it had been really late.

"What'd y'think?"

"I enjoyed it, but you were all really nervous, eh?"

He giggled, "Yeah, you might say that - the band hadn't ever played on US television before. Hell, I was actually nervous."

"I thought you were, you were a little twitchier than normal while you were talking to Jay." I had often wondered watching Russell in interviews - if someone held his hands still, would he be able to talk at all?

He chuckled, understanding what I was getting at. "Damn near twitched myself outa the chair, didn't I? I was, um, overly anticipatory." We laughed at his terminology. It was almost dark when we turned into the gated driveway of the Governor's Mansion and he showed his invitation to the security people. They waved us through and we wound our way up the drive to the parking area. He actually came and held the door for me, helping me out of the car. I can't remember the last time someone did that - maybe for a high school dance? I found it very sweet. He held my hand as we walked across the parking area and up the steps of the mansion. I thought he would let go once we were inside, but he didn't. I was totally enthralled by that. My hand was almost lost in his much larger one, but he held it so gently, fingers twined with mine, that I felt very cherished.

Careful, I warned myself, don't read anything into this casual gesture. Sometimes I hate my practical self interrupting my romantic self.

Russell introduced me to the Governor and First Lady of Texas, also to some other politicos and guests. Their daughter whose birthday would be celebrated the next night at Stubbs was nowhere in evidence, and Mrs. Perry said Sydney was out on the back patio with some friends her own age for their own dinner. "That way they can listen to their music without us old fuddy-duddies boring them to tears."

We went down the receiving line and into the main salon where there were dozens of people milling around with champagne glasses in hand. Russell snagged two glasses for us and we were shortly talking with some people he knew from the music industry in Austin, one of them the owner of the studios where they had recorded BLOC the summer before. I saw some people I knew from my days at the university when I taught creative writing, and introduced Russell to them, amused at the wide eyes on a couple of the women. I suppose I would have been equally as wide-eyed had I been the one being introduced to him by one of them.

Russell was jovial to the people we each knew, and polite to people who came up and introduced themselves. He sipped at the same glass of champagne the entire time we were in the reception area, although I knew he'd much rather have beer - or at least I thought he would. He seemed at ease among the varied group of people, but of course, he would be, having been - probably - to every kind of reception, party, banquet and luncheon known to man in the past couple of years. I couldn't help looking at him at every opportunity. I didn't want to be caught gawping at him - after all, that would be embarrassing, I'd think - but he's just so beautiful, in a totally male sort of way. He drew the eye of just about every female - and some of the men, as well - in the place. At the same time, he seemed oblivious to it.

He leaned down and said in my ear, "Did I tell ya how beautiful you look, Reagan?"

I smiled, "I believe something was mentioned, but thank you again." I took a sip of the champagne - excellent, probably Möet. Thank God, they don't make champagnois style wine in Texas, or they'd have felt duty bound to serve it. "You look beautiful also."

He grinned wickedly, "Thanks - I think. Does that mean I look like a poofta?"

I laughed, "No, that's not what I meant and you know it. It means you look masculine but decorative." Someone I knew from the Austin newspaper came up so I introduced him and his wife to Russell. He charmed them both, especially the wife, who was still fluttering when her amused husband led her off to go into the dining room when they called us for dinner. "See, you just charm the socks off 'em," I commented happily.

"As long as it's only the socks," he answered sotto voce. "I hope we're next to one another, I hate these formal affairs where you're seated next to someone you've never met in your life and aren't ever likely to see again later."

"I know, I feel the same way." Luckily, we were at one of a dozen big round tables that each sat six couples. The tables were draped in pale yellow damask with lace spilling over the tops, big arrangements of yellow flowers, blue bonnets, blue, white and yellow ribbons filled the center of each table, and each place setting held a single flower in porcelain that matched a variety of flower in the live arrangements. It was quite beautiful. We were next to one another, to my relief, and he seated me as gallantly as any swain in one of my romances.

We were the first ones at the table, but were shortly joined by some people I knew vaguely as big political donors, and a couple who owned a huge cattle ranch outside of town that bordered on the former governor's property. There were two couples from Dallas who were in the oil business, and a banker from Houston with his wife who was a violinist with the Texas Symphony. It was an interesting mix, and everyone got along really well. Russell just seemed to fit right in, and no one at the table seemed overawed by him, which I know he was glad about.

A chamber orchestra played during the meal. Afterwards, while they were serving birthday torte with strawberries and red raspberries in it, a regular band came into the grand ballroom next door and began playing dance music. People began drifting that way, us included, and Russell drew me into a lovely, slow waltz, his footwork as perfect as his acting. I could have truly danced like that all night, but of course, the next dance was another rhythm, so we moved into the fox trot and finished that dance as well before sitting back down. Russell drank some water and leaned forward to speak into my ear, "What d'ya fancy, luv? Do you want to stay here awhile and be beautiful social butterflies, or would you consider going back to the house with me?"

"My house, or the rental?" I didn't really have any other clothes with me, so that made a difference.

"Your house - I want to try out that pool." His eyes smoldered green fire at me for an instant and I shivered down my spine.

"Erm, yes, let's leave as soon as we can without being rude," I answered, throat suddenly gone dry. I drank off the last of my champagne and switched to ice water while Russell looked amused.

"I think about now is long enough," he said softly, drawing me to my feet. We said our farewells and left.

The drive back seemed to take no time at all, and we were shortly parking beside my door out in the country. Jock and Samson barked from their run, and we walked across the summer-dry grass to let them out. "Down," I commanded when Samson wanted to put his paws up on my dress, and he obeyed, looking as contrite as a yellow Lab ever does - which isn't saying much. They followed us into the house and settled in their usual indoor places in the kitchen where their water and food bowls sat near the pantry. I headed to my bedroom, grateful to be out of high heels as I kicked them off and carried them with me.

"You can swim nekkid or there are probably some men's' swimsuits in the closet by the pool," I called to Russell, who was just coming in from the kitchen, a small carryon in his hand. I stopped, grinning, "You planned ahead?"

He looked slightly abashed, but not much, "Well, never hurts to be prepared." He followed me, "Do you mind if I change here or would you rather I use your guest room?"

"Don't be silly, change here," I said, and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. One thing I love about Russell is that when I do that, he does not follow me, he respects my privacy. If I had left the door open, or made a come-hither remark before going in there, he would have probably followed, but he understood my need for privacy for certain bodily functions as much as I respected his, so when I emerged a few minutes later, he was already gone - presumably out by the pool. I threw on my emerald green two-piece - it's just shy of being a bikini, but not quite, and it has a tiny sarong skirt that I now tied on so the knot was over my right hip. "Are you in the pool?" I called out.

Samson uttered a soft "wuff" from that direction, so I smiled and padded out barefoot. He had found the underwater lights and turned them on, and had turned on the spa jets in the small Jacuzzi that adjoined the pool, and was lazily doing the backstroke across the pool, kicking the water just slightly. "Make yourself at home," I teased.

"Thanks, luv - great pool - the water is just right." He stopped swimming to make his way back to the steps near where I put a towel down on a chaise. I took off the sarong and put it over the arm of chaise. "You coming in?" He held a hand out to me, and I took it, walking down the steps into the water. "That's nice, luv, isn't it?" he asked as I floated for a minute.

"I love it - I try to swim every day, it's such good exercise." I swam a half-lap now before he laughed and grabbed my foot. Before I could react, he ducked me and when I came up spluttering, he took off for the far end of the pool. That was when I realized he was stark naked. "Jesus," I called out to him, "careful not to sprain anything."

He just laughed raucously and swam back to try ducking me again. I was ready for him this time, though, and instead of just waiting for him, I dove underneath him, groped him shamelessly, and swam on past as he doubled up laughing. "Unfair tactics!" he called out when he finally had control of his laughter.

"Is not," I shrugged, "I grabbed the first thing that was handy. I could have had a toe or a foot for all I knew."

He stood right up against me then and grabbed my hand, dragging it down his body until he could wrap my fingers around a very different appendage. "Grab that, luv, it needs your attention."

I stared into his laughing eyes and squeezed what he'd given me to hold, "I thought being in the water would make this shrink up all tiny."

"Another lousy myth shattered," he said, laughing. He scooped me up and carried me onto the pool deck, placing me on the nearest lounge. He climbed onto it after me, pulling my swimsuit bottoms off, unfastening the bra top and throwing both onto the deck. He pulled my thighs wider apart and stared down at me in the watery light. "You're so pretty there, luv," he growled, and put his mouth on me, sucking and nipping.

I bucked my pelvis up towards him, an almost involuntary movement when he started suckling my clit. I had a grip of his head, and pulled his hair to keep his face there, but he removed my clawing fingers with a throaty laugh and kissed his way up me, circling my breasts, then sucking each nipple into his mouth and drawing on it in a steady rhythm until it was budded up hard and swollen. He kneaded my breasts with his hands, squeezing and rolling the nipples as he moved up my throat onto my face with his kisses. I could feel his cock - burning hot and hard as steel - pulsing against my belly as he rubbed his hips against me. I tried to get at it but he managed to elude my grasping hands, chuckling low in his throat as he evaded me. Then his tongue came plunging into my mouth at the same time his fingers came plunging up my cunt, opening and stretching me for that larger invasion that came only seconds later as he rammed his cock home. We both groaned loudly, staring into each other's eyes. "Fuck me," I urged him.

"I intend to," he rasped, and began doing just that.

He filled me up tight, moving his hips in a slight rotating motion with each thrust. I felt every inch of his heavy, thick shaft as he worked me with it, plunging so deep the head was bouncing off the mouth of my womb each time he hilted himself. He'd plunge in, grunt in pleasure, and begin a slow retreat, both of us moaning at the sensations. I could hear the wet sucking sounds as his cock pistoned in and out, hear the fleshy slap of his balls against my ass, and the forceful exhalation of his breath as he gasped with the pleasurable effort of fucking me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held onto him, digging my fingers into his back, sliding my hands down onto his plunging hips, feeling the big muscles there clench and release as he drove into me. I started coming almost at once. I could hear myself wailing and pleading - I'm not sure for what - as I went over the edge into a kind of orgasmic never land. My whole universe was centered there between my thighs where he took his pleasure of me and I of him. All he had to do was keep fucking - which he did - and when the cockhead struck my G-spot I shrieked and spasmed and bucked and yelled, totally losing myself. It was awesome. Unbelievable. "Russell!" I screamed when he reached down and squeezed my clit between his fingers, sending me into an even harder climax.

"Here I come, luv," he growled in my ear, and he tucked his face into the hollow of my throat where it joined my shoulder, setting his teeth into the muscle there as he took half a dozen short, deep strokes before freezing over me, his whole body trembling, rigid, as he began to shoot his fiery cum up me. "God, God, God," he rasped, his mouth right by my ear. I just held on with everything I had, having yet another orgasm of my own from the hot spurting inside me and his fingers that were still massaging my clit. I felt the burning liquids - his and mine - run out of me as he filled me up, and then he relaxed down onto me with a satisfied sigh and kissed the side of my face, whispering in my ear. I couldn't understand him at first, I was so out of it, but then I realized he was saying, "Beautiful, beautiful," and when I turned to look in his eyes, he said it again, and kissed me, taking a long time about it, all warm mouth, sliding tongue, panting breath - God, I could have just died happily right there and then.

I have no idea how long we lay on that chaise lounge before we got chilled enough to get off it and get into my bed. Neither one of us could walk very well - my legs felt like spaghetti - and we giggled at our comical staggers as we made it into the bedroom to collapse onto the bed. I managed to pull the covers up with Russell's help, and he settled me close against him, spoon-fashion, and we were gone for the night. Both dogs came into the bedroom at some point and curled up at the foot of the bed, and neither of us even noticed the huge Lab or the little Westie, we were that far out of it.

When I dragged my eyes open in the morning - almost noon, actually - it was to meet the happy aqua gaze of Russell's long-lashed eyes. "Hullo," he greeted me, "good morning, rather - or afternoon, I've no idea."

"It's the next day, that's all I know," I said, laughing. My whole body was sore, but a good kind of sore. I stretched a bit lying there in his grasp because he still held me close, and showed no signs of wanting to let go of me. I could have stayed there until Doomsday anyway.

"If I wasn't starving, luv," he finally commented a bit later, "and if I didn't have to pee so bad I'm about to burst, I'd never move out of this bed. . ."

I laughed and patted his face, cupping his cheek and leaning up to kiss him good morning. "I take it you want breakfast and the john, and not necessarily in that order?"

He nodded and sat up, bringing me up with him in a fierce bear hug, laughing. "Unfortunately, yes."

So we got up, and it was the next day and our night was over. But being with him is such an adventure, I wasn't sorry, I just wondered what would happen next. Besides breakfast.

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