All the Time in the World

***Prologue***

According to the woman's driver's license, her first name was Likesha. I smiled, thinking it was a pretty name for such a lovely woman--and, for future reference, took a moment to add her name and address to the contacts list of my phone.

Again, according to the driver's license, she was a forty-nine-year-old African American woman with brown hair and eyes, five feet seven inches in height, and weighing one hundred and eighty-five pounds--A beautifully large woman.

I whistled appreciatively as I stood back to admire her plush curviness more discerningly. Like so many women in the Las Vegas area, Likesha's plush curvy pulchritude stretched the boundary of being merely overweight toward obesity. With a heavy bosom, a thick ample waistline, and extremely broad hips, her body shape was distinctly more pear-shaped than hourglass.

Beneath her casually oversized UNLV sweatshirt, she wore sheer, form-fitting black leggings that emphasized and enhanced her beautifully plush and fleshy buttocks cheeks. Guesstimating her vital statistics, I could easily imagine something along the lines of 50-42-62.

While a great many men might think her unattractively overweight--even repulsively so, I was drawn to her.

I had discovered, in my many experimentations with sensuality, that an obese woman's body can very often be a tremendous source of physical pleasure. The smoothly pliant tactile sensation of her softly yielding flesh is something I have come to truly admire and appreciate.

From the first moment I had seen Likesha pushing her shopping cart through the produce section of Walmart, I was immediately attracted to her exceptionally broad hips and bulging buttocks cheeks--cheeks that SO provocatively swelled the tight confines of her sheer black leggings. I followed her discreetly for a time, just to admire the way her buttocks cheeks moved as she walked--waiting for the most opportune moment.

When that precise moment occurred, she was standing in line at the checkout counter--and had just bent over to take something from her shopping cart. Perfect.

<------------SNAP------------>

Taking a position directly behind Likesha in the checkout line. I quickly lowered my jeans and my briefs, allowing my urgently aching erection to spring free with a sigh of pent-up relief.

I stepped closer, pressing my hips against the soft cushion of her buttocks, loving the sensation of her smooth nylon leggings against my bare skin--and moaning aloud as I moved my hips to slowly to grind against her.

Sensing the increasing rise of my need, I stepped back and slipped my thumbs under the waistband of her leggings and--very slowly and carefully--peeled them down just far enough to bare her astonishingly big and beautiful buttocks cheeks--her soft flesh jiggling like jello.

Overwhelmed with the desire to feel her soft flesh against my bare skin, I pressed my hips against her once more, groaning aloud at the exquisite sensation of my erection slipping deeply into the cleft of her cheeks.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I quickly rolled a lubricated condom over my erection. I used my thumbs to spread her buttocks cheeks wide open and guided the tip of my cock deep between her cheeks--holding the tip against her tightly puckered anus as I released her cheeks and pressed them over my erection.

I began to thrust into her, the lubricated condom slipping easily against her skin. As I felt my orgasm beginning to rise, I grasped her big fleshy hips and pulled her tightly against me--thrusting forcefully, our bodies slapping together loudly.

At the very instant my first ejaculation was to erupt into the condom, I thrust myself deeper into the cleft of her buttocks--feeling the tip of my cock push through her tight anal sphincter. The exquisite sensation of her tight anus squeezing the tip of my cock, sent me completely over the edge. I cried out in my pleasure, grasping the soft flesh of her hips, I thrust into her again... and again, sighing her name with each ejaculation.

Moments later, the fervor of my passion spent, I held myself motionless until my breathing began to slow. I smiled, moving my hips ever so slowly to slip the tip of my cock from her anus--and then slowly pulling my cock from between her buttocks cheeks--using a handful of tissues to remove any residue of condom lubrication from between her lovely cheeks.

Filled with the warm afterglow of my orgasm, I bent down and very carefully raised her leggings, placing them into the EXACT position they had been in previously.

I removed my condom, tossing it unceremoniously into a nearby trash receptacle, and pulled up my briefs and my jeans. As I looked around at the crowd of people waiting at the Walmart checkout line, I smiled and stepped out of the queue, quickly crossing to the nearby men's restroom for the privacy I needed.

<------------SNAP------------>

As the familiar cacophony of sound once again assailed my eardrums, I smiled and left the restroom. I watched as Likesha completed her purchases. She smiled at the cashier before gathering her bag and turning away.

I smiled broadly noting with satisfaction that she exhibited no indication whatsoever that she had just been anally violated.

As Likesha stepped away with her bag of purchases, I followed her to the order counter of the McDonald's outlet at the entrance to the store. Standing close, I heard her order two Happy Meals. Curious, I hung around at the entrance and waited for her to leave.

Moments later, Likesha ambled past me, her attention focused on the contents of the McDonald's bag. Once outside the store, two children hurried up to her, their cries of excitement loud as they hopped up and down beside her. Likesha laughed and handed each child one of the Happy Meals, and they made their way toward the parking lot.

I sighed contentedly and smiled, knowing I would very likely meet with Likesha again--and perhaps I might even be allowed to experience even more intimate pleasures with her.

As I stepped into my vehicle and started the engine, I thought of Harold and the incredibly generous gift he had bestowed upon me--the ability to stop and start time

.

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

Chapter 01 - Harold

Looking back now, I can't help but wonder how different my life might have been if I had not missed my bus that morning a year ago. I had been living pretty much hand to mouth back then, my meager position as a hotel porter gave me precious little to exist on, and it always seemed to be a constant struggle to make my rent every month and buy food. I confess I was intimately familiar with the dollar menu at McDonald's.

I had a fifth-hand, beat-up Ford Pinto that, when I could afford gas, would get me from point A to point B, but it burned oil by the gallon and was, at that time, unregistered and with no insurance. I was forced to take the bus to and from work, and on that particular morning in question, the heavens opened up with a deluge of rain, the likes of which we rarely see in this part of the country. It had l actually rained most of the night and well on into the morning with seemingly no let-up in sight.

The rain fell so hard I could barely see the bus stop in front of me as I splashed through the quickly expanding rushing water running down the streets, especially at the curbs where it quickly swelled to a rushing torrent. I cursed as my shoes became waterlogged in an especially deep pool in front of the bus stop. To my horror, the bus began to pull away from the stop while I was still thirty yards or so away.

I cried out, waving my arms like a lunatic until the rear of the bus faded into the downpour. I stopped running and just stood--silent and dejected--on the sidewalk, becoming more and more drenched to the bone.

"Fuck!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, shaking my head in disbelief. I was going to be late for work AGAIN, and had already been written up twice this month for tardiness. I didn't relish the idea of confronting my boss once again for being late.

I stood under the eave of the bus stop, dejected and wet, waiting for the next bus. It was then that I heard a soft cry over the rushing hiss of the pouring rain. It seemed to be coming from the culvert behind the bus stop and almost sounded like a child or a small animal in pain. Curious, I walked behind the bus stop and was surprised to see the rain abatement culvert filled with a raging torrent of flood-level water.

This region of the country is often prone to flash flooding, especially when the rain falls as constantly as it had been that day. The drains quickly fill up and the streets flood. The washes and drainage culverts do their best to keep up, but flooding is a common occurrence during the monsoon season.

I cautiously approached the rushing torrent of water, careful not to slip on the muddy ground. As I neared, I heard the cry once more; this time it definitely sounded like a human voice. Moving closer, I gasped in surprise to see someone floundering in the rushing floodwater.

A man was desperately clawing at the muddy embankment in an attempt to catch hold, as he was rapidly being swept along in the rushing water toward a concrete drainage tunnel. A tunnel that I knew extended for at least a hundred yards underground.

With nary a thought for my own safety, I ran toward the rushing water and the entrance to the drainage tunnel, slipping dangerously on the rain-soaked ground and barely managing to keep my balance. I knew that, if that person should be swept into the tunnel, it almost certainly meant death. As I neared, I could see the person struggling was an old man; his eyes were wide with fear as he grasped ineffectually at the muddy banks of the culvert...the water pulled him along relentlessly.

I reached him just as he was being swept into the tunnel. His imploring eyes met mine as his head disappeared into the tunnel. Somehow, he managed to grasp the concrete at the top of the tunnel by his fingertips just as I reached him. I quickly reached forward and grasped his wrist, not caring about my own precarious position, as my feet kept slipping into the rushing water. This man was about to FUCKING DIE and I had to do everything in my power to try to save him.

I pulled, feeling the force of the rushing water pulling him away from me. His other hand released the concrete and grasped my arm. I braced my foot against the concrete and pulled with all my might. The man's head suddenly appeared, his eyes wide and his face a rictus of fear as he gasped for breath. I redoubled my efforts, pulling with all my might until, thankfully I pulled his body, inch by tortured inch, from the rushing water.

We collapsed together on the wet, muddy bank of the culvert, both of us gasping for breath from the exertions of the struggle.

"Thank you...." he gasped, his voice barely audible over the hiss of the pouring rain, "My God... thank you... thank you."

"Hey..." I said, trying to smile, "You're welcome. Are you all right?"

He nodded and smiled, "If I'm alive... well then I guess I'm all right."

I laughed, "Come on," I said rolling onto my hands and knees, "Let's get the fuck out of here before we both get sucked into the tunnel."

"Capital idea," he said, doing as I did, and together we crawled up the embankment to the relative safety of flat land at street level. For a moment we just sat there in the rain watching the rushing water coursing through the culvert tunnel.

I smiled at him but could see he was still feeling the aftereffects of his life-threatening experience. He was shivering uncontrollably and I knew I had to get him warm and dry.

"Hey, listen," I said, "I just live over there." I indicated with a nod of my head to the apartment building complex across the street. "What do you say we go get dry and something warm to drink?"

He nodded, and we stood. I grasped his arm as he wobbled unsteadily.

"Oh, no!" he gasped, becoming suddenly very agitated as he grasped the outside of his pants pockets. He reached into his right front pocket and removed what appeared to be a ring.

"Oh, thank God," he murmured with a sigh of relief as he slipped the ring onto the middle finger of his right hand. He staggered once more, and I took his arm and guided him across the street toward my apartment building.

Once inside my apartment, I pointed him toward the bathroom, "First, let's get you out of those wet clothes," I said, "Hand them out to me and I'll put our stuff in the dryer while you get warm in the shower. Oh... and there's a robe you can wear on the back of the bathroom door."

He said nothing but nodded thankfully as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door. Moments later, he handed out his wet clothing, and I stripped off my sodden clothes as well. I heard the hiss of the shower and smiled, tossing all our clothing for a quick high-speed rinse and dry into the dryer.

I phoned my boss to let her know I would be rather late and quickly relayed the circumstances of my tardiness. I expected a tirade, as getting to work on time has been such an ongoing issue, but to my surprise, she almost seemed sympathetic. She asked if, instead of coming in late for my shift, would I consider working the graveyard shift for someone who had phoned in sick at the last minute. I told her I would be happy to do that for her, relieved that she even seemed thankful, and then ended the conversation.

I quickly dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt. When I heard the shower stop, I put on a pot of coffee as well as a kettle of water in case he would prefer some hot chocolate or tea instead. A moment later, he emerged from the bathroom, wearing my long, terrycloth robe, smiling as he tied the belt at his waist.

"The name's Harold," he said with a smile, extending his hand to me, "Harold Meyer."

"Harold..." I returned with a smile, "Nice to meet you, sir. I'm James, James Danfield."

I bade him sit at the table and asked about his drink preference. I smiled when he opted for hot chocolate, as that was my preference as well. I put the chocolate in cups and poured the hot water into them.

"I... I don't even have words to express how...." he began, his voice breaking.

I waved my hand, "You don't need to say anything," I said, "I'm just happy that I happened to hear you calling from the bus stop."

He lifted the cup to his lips, his hand trembling badly--and then lowered the cup without tasting the hot chocolate. His shoulders shook and tears suddenly streamed down his cheeks. I quickly reached behind me, taking up the box of tissues from the counter and setting the box on the table in front of him.

He grasped up a handful of tissues and wiped his eyes, his tears flowing freely for several moments. He finally leaned back in his chair and wiped the last of the moisture from his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, James," he said, his voice a little shaky. "I, um... I guess it's just finally hitting me how close I came to... losing everything."

I smiled sympathetically, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Harold," I said, "You're safe and sound now."

He looked up into my eyes, his eyes wide, imploring. "I gave up," he said, "As I... as... as I was being pulled into that tunnel, I knew my life was over. I... knew I couldn't hold on much longer so... I actually surrendered to it and prepared to let go. I had come to terms with my mortality, and I was prepared to die. But... it was at that very instant when I let go of my life that... I felt your hand grab onto my wrist."

He wiped his eyes once more. "I'm sorry for being so emotional, but it seems almost miraculous that you were there at that instant to pull me back from... from the brink of oblivion."

I rubbed his shoulder affectionately, "Hey... I'm just happy it worked out the way it did... and that you are all right," I said.

"All right?" he said looking up at me and shaking his head, "After today, I don't think I'll ever be all right again. I believe I have just received a new, God-given, lease on life... and, I'm going to go forward, from this day on, to live out the rest of my days in peace and happiness."

"I think that's a great idea," I said with a broad smile.

Harold nodded and laughed softly to himself. "While I was in your shower, I was wondering how I might best reward you for the kindness you've shown me."

I shook my head vehemently, "No, no, no," I said, "The fact that you are all right is all the reward I need."

Harold laughed softly, "Of course, that's what you would say because it's just the kind of man you are. But, I can NOT, in all honesty, let your act of selflessness and kindness go unrewarded."

He held up his hand to stifle my objection, "As I was saying, I gave it much thought while in the shower. I may not look like it at the moment, but I am actually a rather wealthy man. I have planned and saved most of my life and, after surviving a near-death experience, I believe it is now time for me to retire and enjoy the fruits of my labors. I thought of giving you some money... actually a lot of money, but I believe I have an even better solution.

"It's like the old fable about giving a man a fish and he eats once, or teaching him how to fish so he can always eat. So, I believe that instead of just giving you money, it might actually be better to provide you the opportunity to always be able to acquire all the money you might ever need."

I was at a loss for words, wondering where he might be going with this. When he mentioned money, my heart skipped a beat. While I would most certainly refused, and refused vehemently, any offers of money... I would, in all likelihood, have allowed myself to be coerced.

"Many years ago," he sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling, "I was given a gift by my grandfather." He looked at me and held up his hand. "It was this ring," he said indicating the ring on his middle finger.

It was the very same ring, I recalled, that he had been almost frantic to find after I had pulled him from the culvert.

"My grandfather told me, at the time, that I would know instinctively when to pass it on to a son or daughter, perhaps even a grandchild," he said, pausing and pursing his lips thoughtfully, "But I never married and I have no family whatsoever, so I had always assumed that, when I passed on, I would take the ring with me."

He looked directly into my eyes, "But... in all honesty, I can't think of a better person in ALL the world... to pass along this special gift... than to than you."

I shook my head, not wishing to take some kind of ancient family heirloom from him, while also, shamefully, seeing how it was not a very attractive piece of jewelry at all and wondering if it might somehow be valuable otherwise.

"I know it's not much to look at," he said with a little laugh, holding up his hand to look at the ring appraisingly. "But the ring's worthiness isn't predicated on what it's made of or its beauty as a piece of fine jewelry."

He looked deeply into my eyes. "The worthiness of THIS ring lies in its ABILITY."

I tried to nod understandingly, wondering where on earth he was going.

"Because..." he paused and took a deep breath, "Because the wearer of this particular ring has the innate ability to stop time."

(The story continues in All The Time in the World - Part 2)

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

Author's note

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, I can only hope you have enjoyed part 1 of my "Time" series. Part 2 will be submitted for publication very soon. I value your comments, feedback, and suggestions tremendously, please feel free to add yours in the comments section, or via email. If you'd like to stay connected and follow along with my newest stories and updates, be sure to follow me here in Literotica. Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement.