01

Author's Note:

Listen. I've been promising this story for a

long

time. There's a pretty good chance it won't satisfy the various teasers and mysteries that appeared in earlier stories, but I'm okay with that. There was once a story bumping around in my head called "Church Camp Orgy." I have started to write this story no fewer than seven times over the course of probably fifteen years. I still might write that story someday, but some of the basic ideas I decided a while back to just absorb into this one. The mysterious characters of Luke and Rebekah have a story, sure, but the one I constantly found myself caring about was Will's story. Eva, Becky, Jack, Sophie. Those guys kind of feel like friends of mine now.

I bring up Church Camp Orgy, because eventually there's going to be an orgy at a church camp, and it's going to happen in one of the future chapters of this story. Not this one, or any of the first few. I had a lot of big weird dumb ideas for that story, and started putting little pieces of it into A Week On the Lake and Lucky Cable Guy, thinking one day I might sort of tie all the weird sex magic shit together in one big spectacular group sex blow-out. I might do a Luke and Rebekah story someday, and I might do a simpler, less magical, Church Camp Orgy someday, but a lot of those big dumb ideas I had are going into A Wedding On the Lake.

We're not even going to make it to the Lake at all for a few chapters, so strap in. Will and his friends have a bachelor party weekend at the beach first.

Oh and for newcomers, this is a sequel to Another Week On the Lake, which was a sequel to A Week On the Lake. The story also features characters from Lucky Cable Guy, Connor's Senior Year, and even a couple ladies from Marie.

I hope you find this belated and oft-promised sequel entertaining. As always, my stories contain a lot of unrealistic sizes and abilities and that sort of thing and also a fair bit of dudes sucking cock in the group sex casserole, "so if that doesn't seem like your particular brand of vodka, help yourself to as much food as you like, and have a safe journey, no hard feelings. Otherwise, come with me."

Prologue

James

Years before I fell in love with Veronica, I fell in love with Jessica and married her, and it didn't work out. We'd been at school together, friendly but not friends. My years-on unrequited crush was for her best friend Monica in those years. On graduation night I made it my mission to track down Monica at whatever party she might be attending and see if I had a shot, but I'd never found her. I bounced around from one house party to another, passing on offered beers and shots and enjoying the summer evening drives with my windows down and listening to the radio. Joan Jett, John Cougar and J. Geils dominating the first summer of my independence.

"BIG JIM!" Mikey bellowed in his driveway as I pulled up in front of the house across the street at dusk. "Get over here, you son of a bitch and drink a beer with me!" A stop at Mikey's party was practically predestined, and this was the only house where I would accept a beer to be polite. It was hard not to enjoy Mikey's company, at least until he got to his eleventh or twelfth beer. I could tell by the ferocity of his bear hug that he was somewhere in the six or seven zone.

"Where the fuck have you been, man? You missed it!" He slapped me on the back and led me around to the back yard where a host of our classmates mingled and laughed and drank. I saw Jessica and my stomach twisted in anticipation of seeing Monica. I'm not sure if Jessica noticed me right away. When she would tell the story to our friends years later, I was already at Mikey's party when she arrived. Maybe she was right, but let's stick with this version.

"You should have seen it, Jimmy! Bill Castle blew chunks all over my mom's magnolias! She fucking wailed on him and chased him down the street! I couldn't stop fucking laughing!"

I chuckled and pulled the top on the can he handed me, catching Jessica's eye for the first time as I lifted the can to my lips and noticing her smile, one I'd seen hundreds of times in four years, but noticing it with surprise for the first time at the warm buzz it gave me. I turned back to Mikey after the first sip. "What a dickhead!" I laughed. "I'll steer clear of the garden."

"Drink up, Jimbo," Mikey said, crashing his beer can into mine. "You seem way too sober for graduation!"

He sauntered off into his party and I caught Jessica's eye again and she made her way over to me.

"Monica's not here," she said.

I felt my cheeks flush. She hadn't said it with cruelty, but warmth, and maybe some sympathy. Still, it was difficult to hide my disappointment. Jessica put a hand on my shoulder. "Yeah I get it," she said. "Monica breaks hearts like Mikey breaks rushing records. Wanna get out of here?"

I hadn't said anything to her yet and she already knew everything about my intentions and now, my mood.

With a look at Mikey regaling an audience with one of his many ridiculous but hysterical stories, I left my beer with just a sip missing on a folding table next to a plate of carrots and celery and some bizarre dip and led Jessica back to the street to my dad's old pickup truck and into a summer night that I would never forget, even if I wouldn't see her again for fifteen years.

There was another party at the beach where we said hello to reveling friends but refused drinks. We took off our shoes and walked along the beach and talked about the things we were going to miss, our summer jobs and college plans. The dusk faded and the moon rose, glowing bright behind a summer haze, and we kissed with the cold water swirling around our ankles. Jessica made the move, although she would deny it years later. In her version I was more charming than I'd ever been as an eighteen year old. I think when she told the story, once we were married, she liked to map my thirty-three year old self onto my awkward eighteen year old form.

I remember her as confident and wise and a little intimidating, but I have to admit that the memory is colored by our reunion and courtship and those first two happy years of our marriage.

But regardless of who leaned in first, kiss we did. Her tongue in my mouth was unlike anything I'd ever imagined, not for lack of trying. Her body pressed against mine, and her skin under my hands, the aroma of her shampoo and her body, it surpassed my fantasies of Monica so completely as to make them seem immediately like the idle daydreams of a boy.

The part of the story we didn't tell friends at dinner parties, frantic and rapturous sex in the bed of my dad's pickup truck, is also clouded by later experience and years of remove. But my first time happened under the moon with the friend of the girl I'd been seeking. We bumped heads and teeth, we sweated and laughed and moaned. Jessica's confidence flagged a bit when she took off her shirt, but the sight of her curves filled me with electric lust, banishing fantasies of Monica's lean frame, and making me wonder what it was I'd been lusting after. Jessica's big tits and plump butt were breathtaking and I told her so, and she smiled and blushed and kissed me and impaled herself on my cock. The truck rocked on ancient springs as she rode me and made herself cum. It took all the strength I could muster not to cum inside her, particularly with her big gorgeous tits heaving and swaying right in front of my face as she fucked herself on my cock.

After her first orgasm, I rolled us over.

"Fuck me," she said.

I tried, but I lost it after maybe a dozen strokes inside the heavenly embrace of her pussy. I pulled out as quickly as I could and shot a few little spurts of cum onto her stomach and she smiled up at me and I leaned over to kiss her until my cock started to deflate.

We didn't say much more, catching our breath and looking up at the hazy moonlit sky. I helped her clean the cum off her stomach with my t-shirt, and used it to clean my flaccid cock, now less eager to let her see it, embarrassed by the size. I'd been hard since well before she'd pulled my pants down, pulsing with desire and kind of proud of my full size, even if it was nothing spectacular. Now I felt the urge to hide the flaccid little thing, and Jessica seemed in no less of a hurry to cover her incredible curves back up.

We dressed and smiled awkwardly. I drove her home and she kissed me before she got out, and we promised to be in touch, but we didn't see each other again that summer. We both had summer jobs, mine in the daytime at the lumber mill for $3.35 an hour, and hers at the drive-in, car-hopping popcorn and soda-pop while The Thing and E.T. and Fast Times played on the outdoor screen. We phoned each other at our parents' houses a few times, always just missing the other. We hung out with friends when we weren't working, and then we went to college.

I thought about Jessica a lot during my freshman year, and thought I might write her a letter, but I never did. I hooked up and dated a bit in college and a bit more after college. I got a job in Portland, and a few years later another one in Portland again, except Maine this time. I moved back home when my dad died, my mom and I leaning on each other in our grief. When she decided to sell the house, I bought one of my own, and she moved into a condo so she wouldn't have to worry about the goddamn grass anymore. "The lawn was always your dad's windmill to tilt against," she said with love and amusement.

My mom dated again after two years, kept up her social life, had a big sixtieth birthday party at a bar in town surrounded by friends and family and her boyfriend Phil, a nice guy with great sense of humor.

After a few birthday toasts, I was ready for a fun evening, and worked my way up to the crowded bar to grab a round for mom and Phil and mom's brother Gary.

I noticed her scent first. I was instantly transported back to that beach and that kiss, and I looked down and to my right to see Jessica looking up at me, smiling. Fifteen years later, she was even more beautiful than I remembered.

I forgot about the round of drinks, and I stayed at the bar all night catching up with Jessica. We drank a little, and laughed a lot, and I walked her back to her apartment and she invited me in and we had sex on her sofa and then again in her bed before we fell asleep. I woke up with an erection and the wonderful naked form of Jessica in my arms, and I pressed my cock against her ass and squeezed her big luscious tits and she moaned and pushed her butt against me, but she rolled out of bed and made me brush my teeth before I fucked her again. I came inside her with my balls still aching from their work the night before, her minty tongue in my mouth, and her big tits pressed against my chest.

Then we dated, and I turned 38 and I asked her to marry me, and I didn't notice the conflict in her eyes that mixed with the surprise, and I think she was thinking about approaching 40 as much as I was, and that might be why she said yes.

She moved into my house and it was mostly great and then mostly fine and then usually fine and sometimes still great, and then it just wasn't. I pretended to be shocked and surprised when she told me she was moving out just two years later, but it felt like I was going through the motions even though I wouldn't admit it to her when she suspected it.

So she moved out, and we had a divorce that seemed as sudden as our reconnecting at my mom's birthday party had felt, and I missed her, and sold my house, and moved to the lake.

* * *

I moved in after most of the seasonal camps had closed up for the fall, including the two houses on either side of mine. The house was reasonably well insulated, and it had a wood stove in the small living room and a loft bedroom over it where I slept and woke up to sunrises over the lake. I set up my office in one of the other bedrooms and worked mostly from home, only making the 90 minute drive to work once or twice a week.

I went on Saturdays to the little town closest to the lake and flirted a little with the bartender Sam over one or two beers even though I was sure her husband Bill had the strength to break me in half. She was quite sexy though, funny and friendly too, and sometimes after I drove home I would jerk off guiltily thinking about her, or Jessica, or Monica even. Or all three.

Fall became winter and the lake froze and I walked out on the ice under the stars and stared up as my breath froze in my beard and 2001 became 2002 and I heard the New Years celebration of a small gathering somewhere across the ice at one of the very few occupied homes.

I stood at the end of my dock every night before bed looking at the stars, or out on the ice if the snow wasn't too deep, and missed Jessica a little less each time, and on the first warm evening of the young spring of 2002, not long before we set the clocks ahead I stood on the dock, hearing the lake alive for the first time since I'd moved here, the way the wind moved differently through budding trees rather than bare branches. A flash of unnatural and terrifying but somehow beautiful blue fire reflected off the lake a half second after I looked down from the starts to its placid surface, and I looked up with my heart pounding and with sudden ferocious excitement, but not fear, just in time to see the form of a naked woman plunge into the water no more than fifty feet from where I was standing as though she'd fallen out of the clear starry sky, but that was impossible.

And while it was completely ridiculous that a naked woman had fallen from the sky and plunged into the lake in front of me, the sound of the splash and the ripples in the otherwise smooth glass lake were impossible to ignore, and I had already kicked off my shoes when she surfaced and gasped for air and flailed at the water with arms already stiffening from the cold of the water.

People don't swim in this lake until late May at the earliest, and then, from what Sam told me, its only fit for the foolish or the young. I plunged into the dark water and immediately wished I'd called for help first as the icy water shocked my muscles and drove the air from my lungs. I was an idiot, and there were going to be two dead bodies washed up on my lawn in the morning, because I could not swim with all thought driven from my mind and the paralyzing spikes of cold leaching the strength from my muscles.

Arms snaked under mine and I wondered at my luck that someone had been walking by at this late hour and seen first the woman drop into the water and then me. I blacked out, thinking that this had been a foolish way for my life to end and wishing I had called my mom.

* * *

When I woke, I was mildly surprised to be alive, and pleasantly warm and comfortable on my sofa, and hornier than I'd ever been in my life. My cock wasn't just hard, it was almost painfully hard, like it was trying to expand beyond itself and tear through my clothes, except I wasn't wearing any. I was on my couch, under a blanket, and I was naked. The wood stove was lit, the door cracked open just the way I had discovered was best for maximizing airflow to get a young fire to burn hot enough to last. My clothes were in a wet pile on the floor beside it. I sat up and threw off the blanket and gasped when I saw my cock. What the hell was going on? It felt bigger because it was bigger. A lot bigger.

"Sorry about that," the voice came from behind me and I jumped in wild fear and surprise and stood naked in the middle of my living room with my ridiculous cock pointing straight up in the air as the woman came in from the kitchen with two steaming mugs. "I couldn't control it. You got a full blast."

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Sunny blonde hair, blue-green eyes, tall and slender with big incredible tits that bounced and bobbed as she walked, a perfect ass and long smooth legs. I couldn't make a very good guess as to her age. She looked simultaneously 25 and 40, depending on the way the red-orange glow of the fire fell across her lightly tanned skin.

I was too dumbfounded to speak, and too shocked to move, and she smiled a smile that made me want to weep for joy before setting the mugs of what looked like tea down on the coffee table.

"It's the right lake," she said. "But it doesn't feel like the right time. I'm having a hard time focusing. I used a lot of power to get here, wherever here is, and a lot more getting you out of the water and in here. Have some tea, it will help."

She sat in my recliner and sipped from her own mug, seemingly unbothered by our mutual nudity and my very obvious and prominent and prodigious erection.

"Who are you?" I managed to croak after a too-hot sip of tea.

"I'm--" she started and caught herself. "I'm Rebekah," she said. "Or maybe Abigail. I'm not sure what order I'm supposed to go in yet."

The cold water must have shocked her as much as it had shocked me, to be unsure of her own name. Except it hadn't shocked her enough to prevent her from lifting me, eighty pounds heavier than herself, out of the water, across the lawn, and into the house.

"How did you fall into the lake?" I said. "There was no boat. It was like you just fell out of the clear sky."

"That's going to be pretty hard to explain," she said. "I'm not really sure how it happened. The lake power did something to me and I just kind of slipped, and by the time I figured out how to stop slipping..." she trailed off, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. "I just sort of, fell in here, and now."

"What does that mean?"

"Drink your tea," she said, smiling. "It will help." It was a reassuring smile and it worked remarkably well. I trusted her. She seemed to know what she was doing. She'd pulled me from the lake and brought me in the house somehow and lit the wood stove and made tea while I was unconscious. I took a sip and it warmed me delightfully. My cock was still impossibly hard and big, and I sat down and covered it with the blanket.

"You said I got a full blast," I said. "What does that mean?"

"Is it really 2002?" she said.

"What?"

"The lake power," she said. "When I slipped, I was holding a lot of it. I think I was holding a lot more than anyone has held in a really long time. It flowed into you when I pulled you out of the water." The way she said slipped led me to believe she meant something other than lost her footing on a slippery surface.

"So that's why you have that monster cock now," she said and smiled again. "Lake power."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Sure you do," she said. "You can feel it. All the blood pumping through that huge fat cock. You feel like you could fuck all night long and all day tomorrow, don't you?" She set down her tea and spread her legs slightly on the recliner and gave me a breathtaking view of her clean-shaved pussy.

"My pussy is so wet," she said. "The power affects me the same way. I want cock."

I was having a hard time concentrating. I wanted to ask her why she kept talking about power and what the fuck that could possibly mean, but she was right. I already knew. It was pulsing through my body like the beat of a second heart. It had made my cock bigger while I was unconscious, and I could feel it in my muscles and brain, sculpting my body and opening my mind. But as interesting and wonderful as the sensation was, the only thing I wanted to do was fuck her. So I said that instead.

"I want to fuck you," I said. "I've never wanted to fuck anyone this bad before."

I let out a slow breath as she stood and took the four steps from the recliner to the sofa. She pulled the blanket aside and grabbed my ridiculous throbbing monster.

"It was very sweet of you to jump into the lake for me," she said as she stroked my thick free-standing cock. Her touch sent shivers of pleasure slipping down the length of my cock and into my balls. I got the impression when she said "sweet" I was the only one of us who had ever been in any danger of drowning or hypothermia or both. "I think you deserve to have your cock sucked."