This is a Highlander: The Series fanfic. Like all fanfiction it used characters who are NOT mine. It is highly ADULT and what is commonly known as a 'PWP' (plot? what plot?). It never leaves the bedroom. I still like to imagine that it is 'erotica' not 'pornography'. If rather graphic descriptions of lovemaking offend you, or if you are under the age of consent in your locale, please read no further.

If you enjoy it, please e-mail me and let me know!

Nameless Fantasies

by Jette Goldie

Joe Dawson was feeling guilty.

Actually he was feeling a lot of things; but at the moment guilt and confusion were uppermost in his mind. The woman was beautiful, she was willing and she was his - if he wanted her.

He wanted her - yet it seemed he didn't.

She had appeared in the club that evening. Tall, blonde and gorgeous. After the band's first set, she had sent a drink across to him 'with her compliments'. A few drinks later they were deep in conversation and there was no doubt which way the evening was going to end.

He didn't even know her full name. "Just call me Honey," she had told him. "Last names only get in the way." At the time he had agreed. All he had been able to think about was her pleasantly husky voice, the sultry smell of her perfume and the smoky whiskey taste of her lips.

Now he lay on the bed, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom, and had second thoughts. Who was she really? Why would a woman like that want him?

Honey entered the bedroom. Her clothes were discarded, except for her bra and panties, and her full, feminine figure was displayed to its advantage. Rich golden hair tumbled around her shoulders and her lips were red and glistening - yet he found himself unmoved.

"Are you ready for me?" she murmured as she approached the bed.

She noted his limp state with a look of faint disappointment. "Ah, never mind," she smiled sympathetically. "I'm sure I can help you with that." So saying she moved across to join him on the bed and lowered her mouth to his groin.

A faint stirring tingle began at the touch of her lips - but it was not enough.

Dammit, thought Joe, his mind racing, this would never happen to MacLeod. Duncan MacLeod, whom he had studied and tracked for seventeen years now - hero, warrior, wanderer and lover; he would never have to wonder if a woman wanted him for himself, or out of some perverted sense of 'civic duty to the crippled'.

As he thought of the Immortal, he felt himself stiffen. He imagined himself as Duncan. Strong and whole, not scarred by one bloody moment thirty years ago in a far off land. Handsome, ever young, ever virile.

That the Highlander would never know the joy of children mattered not one bit - neither would he. No woman would marry him and offer him children. Lauren might have; but Lauren was dead.

He envisioned himself as MacLeod. Muscles gleaming with sweat as he danced through a deadly training routine. Strong, whole legs and bare, perfect feet. He could feel the gritty dust of the dojo floor on the soles of his feet, smell the sweat from his body. He groaned as the sensation became real to him and he hardened further.

The woman smiled and began to run her tongue down his rapidly lengthening shaft. She flicked at his balls with the tip of her tongue and gently drew the spheres into her mouth one at a time.

She believed it was her efforts that were having this effect - let her, he thought.

Suddenly she encircled his shaft with her lips and began to pull him into her mouth. God! Joe spasmed at the sensation of his whole 'self' being enfolded in sweet, warm wetness and nearly lost control.

He grabbed her head, twisting his fingers in her hair and pulled her off him.

"Not...not yet," he gasped. She laughed and slid herself up his torso, trailing kisses on his belly and chest, to kiss him passionately on the mouth. Her mouth tasted still of rye whiskey and the slightly musky taste of himself.

"Honey," he murmured, fingering the strap of her satin bra, "I think this has to go."

She laughed again. "Then you do it," she told him and kissed him deeply once more.

Joe slid his arms around her and his fingers found the clasp of the silky garment. He fumbled slightly with the unfamiliar fastening until the woman reached behind her own back and guided his movements.

Suddenly the clip sprang open and he guided the bra straps off her shoulders and slowly, slowly down her arms.

Her breasts tumbled free of their confinement and he caught his breath in delight. They were not large but they were full half globes that would each fill a man's hand. The skin was pale, un-tanned and smooth with perky little pointed nipples, surrounded by well-defined dark aureoles.

"Perfect," he murmured. Honey giggled slightly.

"Glad you think so," she replied, sliding back down his body to tantalise him by trailing the tips of the nipples across his chest. The touches were feather light, like the very ends of fingertips, but oh so exciting when you knew what was actually causing them.

She was still straddling him, her satin and lace panties still covering more interesting territory, and she seemed to think she had the upper hand. Joe grasped her upper arms and twisted his body, landing her on the bed with him atop her.

"My turn," he told her.

Supporting himself on his elbows, he began with those tempting little nipples. He licked one and saw it rise to the challenge. So-o-o suckable. He mouthed delicately at it and Honey gave a little gasp of delight.

Now both nipples were erect and straining skyward. Neat, pointy and very protuberant. He amused himself by alternating between them while she wriggled in pleasure beneath him. Then he lay on his side beside her to free at least one hand for further explorations.

He traced the contours of her torso with the palm of his hand, cupping one breast briefly, then wandering on to feel the firm muscles beneath the apparently soft skin at her trim waist, then down over her gently rounded belly to her hips. There, once again, his fingers met the smoother silk of her satin briefs.

He slipped a finger inside the elastic at the waist and ran it around the inside, staying just inside the rim and no more. A dark line of hair ran from her navel downwards, disappearing inside the elastic of the panties, like an arrow drawn to guide his eyes.

Again leaning on his arms, he leant over her and pressed his lips to the satin at the jointure of her legs. The fabric was already slightly damp and he licked at the moisture. Sweet and faintly pungent with 'femaleness'.

The wet satin clung to her cleft, becoming almost transparent. He licked again and nuzzled at it, feeling the nub below his lips tighten at his touch.

Honey groaned. "Joe."

"Sshh," he hushed her. She'd spoil his fantasy with words and names.

"But I want you," she pleaded.

He chuckled. "Not yet."

He slid the satin aside to reveal the hidden territory and began to lick gently at the button of her clit in little circular movements. Honey whimpered and her hips jerked upward to meet his mouth. Her hands were on his head as she tried to tangle her fingers in his hair and pull him off her. With one hand he captured both of hers, holding them out of range while he continued with his ministrations.

He changed the image in his mind. Now he was still MacLeod, but she was MacLeod's lovely Tessa. Tessa, beautiful Tessa. He'd only seen her from a distance, walking with MacLeod, talking, sharing kisses. Mac's love for her had showed, glowed, in every moment they shared. He knew that Mac would have wanted to please her in every way - and in four hundred years the Immortal would have surely learnt many ways to please a woman.

He slowed the rhythm of his caresses. His tongue slid slowly and firmly along the cleft of her sex, slipping inside the secret hollow and feeling her muscles clench around him.

"Aaah!" she cried, with a sudden fierce upward jerk of her hips.

Joe grinned to himself and withdrew from there. He moved back to the clit and began to suckle at the nub, which was now standing proud. Honey whimpered again and wrapped her legs around his shoulders, trapping his face against her, smothering him in the sweet wetness of her.

He released her hands and felt them settle on the top of his head. She guided him then, giving him clues to the tempo she needed. Suckle, lick, dart inside, feel her muscles tighten to try to detain the 'intruder', draw him deeper.

At last he paused, sliding himself out of her grip and lying back on the bed. The woman gave a sigh of disappointment.

"Why did you stop?" she whimpered.

He grinned. "I want a share of that," he told her. He guided her to turn around, stripping the panties from her as he did so. Now she crouched above him, her mouth above his cock, her naked cunt above his face.

He drew her down to his level to start again and felt her take him within her mouth at the same moment. First she encircled the head of his penis, running her tongue gently around it inside the firm warmth of her lips. Then she slid lower, running the tip of her tongue down the line of the underside of the shaft.

He found it hard to concentrate, hard to breathe, as she did so. He focused on his own task, making sure that every inch received the attention of his tongue, inserting himself as deeply into her as he could reach, stroking firmly across the mound and nub as he withdrew.

Honey - Tessa - the woman - suddenly angled her self differently as she drew his cock inside her mouth, allowing the head to slide back into her throat, taking all of him inside. He gasped, thrusting upwards, helpless to stop himself, though he feared that he would choke her. Her teeth scraped against his balls, his cock slammed into the back of her throat. He gripped the bedspread with his clenched fists, fighting for control. His breath came in short violent bursts.

She released him then and, turning to look over her shoulder, gave him a measuring glance.

"I think we're past this point," she suggested. He nodded silently. He didn't trust himself to speak at this moment.

She gave his penis one final kiss and raised herself off him. Then she lay beside him and kissed him full on the mouth.

He returned the kiss and reached out for the trapeze like support that hung above the bed. With its aid he levered himself up and propped himself against the pillows so that he was half-reclining, half-upright. Then he took the woman's hand and guided her to sit astride him.

She did so, taking firm hold of the support herself, holding herself poised a few tantalising inches above his straining cock. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she eased herself down upon it.

The feeling was like but unlike that of being inside her mouth. Still warm, still wet - but tight. Delightfully tight. Like being gripped by an iron fist in a warm silken glove. And deep. He felt himself sink into her depths, every inch of him wrapped tight in velvet warmth. He groaned in joy and heard her sigh her own delight.

With his eyes half closed, her blonde hair could so easily be Tessa's.

Gripping the support bar, she began to raise herself and slide back down. He felt himself gripped and massaged inch by inch by the tight sleeve of muscle and started to thrust in time with her movements.

Their mutual tempo increased. Joe reached out to cover her out-thrust breasts with his hands, cupping them, massaging them, finding the nipples and pulling them gently. Honey responded by driving herself downwards faster and faster, harder and harder. At last she abandoned the support bar, leaning upon his chest, raking her fingernails down him in passing. Suddenly she screamed and arched herself against him, every muscle tensed.

Joe felt the explosion begin in his groin, move swiftly to his solar plexus and spread outwards and upwards to set every nerve afire and make starbursts appear before his eyes. He would have screamed himself, if he had found the breath to scream.

Afterwards, their bodies still joined, Honey wept into his chest. Her tears felt cool against his fevered flesh.

"I was right, I was right," she muttered, sobbing.

Puzzled, he stroked her hair and waited for some explanation. "Right? About what?" he queried.

She lifted happy, tear-stained eyes to gaze into his. "About you," she replied. "I heard you sing and I knew that a voice like that had to belong to a man who understood.really understood.passion. Love. You've loved deeply in your time, haven't you?"

Dumbstruck, he stared at her. At last he ventured, "You wanted me?"

She frowned. "What did you think I was doing here?" she demanded, sounding slightly angry. "Did you think that this was a 'pity fuck'?"

He flinched. "I've had experiences like that," he answered slowly.

She sighed, smiling kindly. "Oh, Joe, I should have realised. I'm sorry - I should have made things clear earlier. I don't do 'pity' - not with someone like you. You don't need it, you don't want it, you certainly don't deserve it."

"But I've come to expect it," he told her. "At least from some people."

"Then some people are fools," she retorted. "Joe, to me, to many women, a man is a 'package'. You take the man on board, you take the whole 'package'. That your package includes two prosthetic legs is, well, life."

He kissed her gratefully. "Oh, Honey," he sighed. "Honey.is that your real name? What is your name? Who are you really?"

She smiled. "Honey," she told him. "Honey Fairchild. I'm an agent for a publishing firm, in town for a few days on business. I needed to get out of the hotel tonight and the desk clerk suggested that I visit your club because he said I'd hear the best blues in town there. I didn't expect to find you; but I'm glad I did."

He chuckled. "Well, Ms Fairchild, may I say I'm pleased to be properly introduced to you."

"Very properly introduced," she grinned.

He grinned back. "How long do you think your business will keep you in town?" he asked.

"Oooh, I think I can spin it out for a day or so, perhaps a week," she answered saucily.

"Mmm," he murmured. "Time for us to get to know each other - and I don't mean in the 'biblical' sense!"

The end.

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