(Continued from Maddie – 4)

They were downstairs in the library. He was leaning against the desk and Duke was moving-not exactly pacing but almost a box step-in front of the fireplace. Before both of them, on a couch that faced away from the door, Beth Barton lay face down, twisting her neck to see them.

“Jesus, Duke”, she said, trying to follow his wanderings, “Would you settle where I can see you?”

“Sure…Sorry”, he said and moved more completely into her field of vision.

“Thank you”, she said feigning exasperation.

Beth was naked from the waist down with two ice bags on her swollen bottom. There were swaths of angry purple showing where the ice didn’t cover. She was up on her elbows.

“You’re sure they weren’t military?” Duke said pulling on his lip.

“Military?” she asked.

“Well…ex”, he replied.

“I don’t think so,” Beth said. “They were too loose…didn’t have a real plan. Didn’t know what they were after…What do you think?” she asked turning her head.

“No”, he answered still leaning laconically against the desk. Beth thought it an affectation-trying overly hard to look cool and nonchalant.  “The one on the road was a mook”, he said.  “A nothing. But they knew they were after something…”

“He-the one with the paddle-kept talking about money…” Beth said.

“Never mentioned gold…” Duke chipped in.

“No”, he agreed. “If they knew gold, they’d have said gold.”

“What about Best?”, Duke asked. “You think he had anything to do with it?”

“Naw”, he answered after giving it a short ponder. “He’s semi-retired. Happy with his life on the lake…”

“What about Angela?”

“Angela? Christ no. What would be her motivation? If I had half of her money I’d throw mine away.”

“Still, we could reach out to see if they know anything. Send one of your operatives…” He said it with a smile and he laughed along.

“Operatives. That’s funny.”

“What about your girl?” Beth asked. “She’s gotta be military.”

“I honestly don’t know…but it seems right.”

“Helluva shot”, said Duke.

“Not just the shots”, he answered thoughtfully pulling at his lip. “She has the moves…the carriage…smooth as silk.”

“Not just another pretty face”, said Beth.

“No, I guess not.”

Out in the hall Chelsea walked lightly trying doors looking for the library. Damn house was bigger than it looked. She heard low voices inside and knocked lightly.

“Come in”, called Beth’s voice.

She opened the door tentatively and poked her head in face to face with the men.  Beth’s disembodied voice came from the couch. “Is this my hero….?”

She slipped through the door and closed it quietly behind her.

“Come around so I can see you.”

Chelsea stopped short when she stepped around the couch. “Come on, come on…nothing you haven’t seen before”, hailed Beth holding a hand out. Chelsea took it and squeezed. She had a difficult time keeping her eyes on her eyes. Beth was older than she was, certainly but exceedingly and determinedly well kept. There’s no denying the calendar and genetics, she’d spread a bit back there, but Chelsea wanted a closer look. Wouldn’t take one-but wanted one. Maybe Beth read her mind.

“Boys”, Beth said. “Go and enjoy the party. Make sure everyone who’s still here is having a good time. Let me get acquainted with my savior, here.”

Chelsea didn’t notice any firmness in her tone; nothing that would indicate that she was giving them an order. But they agreed that they needed drinks and he, with a wink and Duke, with a quick squeeze to her bicep, slipped out the door beyond Beth’s field of vision. She waited a moment after the door clicked shut.

“Are they gone?” she asked.


“Good. Do a girl a favor, would you? Get this ice off me. Duke is sweet and wants to help but giving my ass frostbite might not be the best idea. I’m fucking freezing!”

Chelsea lifted the ice bags leaving her bruised cheeks puckered, goose-pimpled and wet.

“There’s a sink behind the bar”, Beth told her. “And a clean towel.”

Chelsea dropped the bags in a sink and brought the towel. Beth, head laying on crossed arms, was pointedly not moving. “Do you mind?” she asked. And when she felt the slightest hesitation, “I’m going out on a limb and assuming mine wouldn’t be the first woman’s ass you’ve touched, right?”

Chelsea allowed half her face to grin unseen.

“Maye not even the first one tonight…” That got a bigger smile that Beth couldn’t see. “That’s OK…” she went on. “Hoping everyone has fun.”

Chelsea dabbed slowly, careful not to rub or in any way abuse or aggravate the bruises. Once dried, she brazenly allowed herself a pat, then a touch of the cool tight flesh. “How’s that feel?” she asked.

“Numb”, Beth answered. “You could probably bite a mouthful off and I wouldn’t notice. Not that I’m inviting…just saying.”

“Looks sore.”

“It will be. Here,” she reached back. “Help me up…” Chelsea pulled her arm and helped her up onto her hip, then to a sitting position. She wriggled slightly. “Oh, yeah…I can feel that.”

Beth’s short hair was died jet black but she allowed her neatly trimmed southern foliage to color itself a more appropriate salt and pepper. Her thighs were thick and firm up top and slimmed at the knees. Chelsea couldn’t help thinking that she could be comfortable across that lap. She grinned slightly, amazed at her state of arousal given the session she had just finished upstairs.

“What?” Beth asked, seeing her lips flutter.


Her heart jumped, as if her unbidden fantasy was about to come true when Beth patted the cushion beside her. “Sit”, she said.

Chelsea did, careful to leave at least a sliver of space between them. Beth took her hand and closely inspected it-the back then the palm. Chelsea watched along with her as if about to discover something about her own hand she never knew.

Then she sat eye to eye as Beth looked over her face surely counting every dim freckle and that hideous bump on her nose. The examination wasn’t uncomfortable though-it felt natural, even intimate.

“What’s that scent you’re wearing?” Beth asked.

“I’m not…wearing any…”

The older woman leaned closer to her neck. “So, it must have rubbed off of someone.”

This time Beth was treated to a full, twisted smile and hint of a blush.

(To be continued…)


The Visit – 8

(Continued from The Visit – 7)

Her mouth fell open as she slid down onto Jake’s stem, pinioning herself, working her pelvis to accept him in full. She thought that of her growing stable of suitors: William, Jimmy Ripple, even Mr. Parsons who was such a bigger man, nobody filled her wall-to-wall, end to end as completely as this.  Maybe it was because they were typically on top-in front or behind-setting the pace; working to meet their needs instead of hers. This was different. Very different.

She rose and fell, rose and fell, her thighs clenching and her knees clicking with each soft thrust. Her easily flowing juices ensured there would be no chafing as she caught a rhythm. His hands were busy, in love with the feel of her hips-and his arms could reach around to her bottom and did. “Spank me.” She whispered feeling his hands back there. “Slap my ass…” She fell forward hoping to create a better target.

He did as instructed, but they were light, glancing blows. His carnal abilities and reflexes were unrefined, and he found concentrating on one thing at a time more reasonable. Squeezing her butt cheeks while she rode him was more in his limited wheel house. As her speed increased she got lower, covering him, hands on both sides of his head. Up close her eyes were bright-less reflective of the dim nimbus around the streetlight outside and more luminous-generating a fire of their own.

“You have to kiss me now”, he said tightly, feeling himself building. “You have to.”

Easily forgetting her earlier proviso, she dropped her mouth onto his and slipped her tongue roughly inside. He swallowed it whole and sealed his lips against hers clumsily banging teeth. She tasted of gin, sand and spearmint gum with just a touch of sourness that flashed once then was gone-easily forgotten. She began to gasp into his mouth, the ratcheting of her hips bringing her off faster than she had expected. She broke and arched her back and ground him hard.

He wouldn’t last much longer and dug his fingers into her thighs. “My ass…” she gasped. “Grab my ass…!” She was up again, then down, on all fours then spread. Her ass was two wooden globes that he squeezed at but couldn’t open. She wished his arms were longer-or better, that there was someone else in the room-someone behind fucking her in the rear…then another- a third in her mouth. As she was carried pounding away she wanted all her holes filled at once…she…wanted…wanted…!

She came with a growl; her body tightening in a long spasm, her flat chest heaving and her legs squeezing as he hissed then barked, finally painting her insides with the thrusting heat of the first orgasm he had shared with anyone. Together they were frozen stiff and twitching until she began collapsing in stages, like a blasted building. First onto her hands, then her elbows, finally onto him entirely, every inch of her fused to him, slippery with sweat and not heavy at all. The intimacy of the two bodies, rising as one with every breath he took kept him from entirely softening.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” he asked.

“I’m going to hell”, she muffled, her head in his neck.

“Then take me with you….”

He could fall asleep easily like this-wearing his Mom’s baby sister as a cover.


The Visit – 7

“No. In here.” She tapped her temple.

(Continued from The Visit – 6)

She rolled onto her hip, prodded by his insistent burrowing in the furrow of her backside. He slid his palm under, squeezing her lightly, a fantasy of years becoming a fleshy reality. When she next looked down on him the regret on her face was fading, subsumed by a hunger, a lust that had been kept at bay if just barely. His touching, his desire for her this way, had opened the door a crack and that’s all it needed.

She pulled back the bedclothes and slid his boxers down quickly, eliciting a hiss as they passed over this hard cock. She looked away from it for a moment, the last pang of propriety melting like cotton candy on the tongue. His hand, not satisfied with the bum cheek, wandered and grasped, digging deeper, a finger finding her tight anus.

“What are you doing with that, you brat?” she grinned, wriggling her bottom against his probing for a moment allowing him a hint of the dry entry, that she enjoyed so much, before pulling away and sliding down his body.

He groaned loudly as she bent and covered his dick with her open mouth, thin lips slipping from top to bottom. Since lubrication, not titillation, was her aim, she didn’t tarry long nor bring the whole of her talents in the mouthy arts to bear; simply a wet swipe down then up leaving him glistening. If he was disappointed when she disengaged it didn’t last as she clambered up his body and rose before him squatting, then kneeling, balancing above his pulsing member.


The Visit – 6

“You’re goofy”, he said breaking and laying back.

(Continued from The Visit – 5)

He slid his hand down her back wanting to cup her bottom but she was firmly planted, again caught in a wave of thinking and rethinking. His hand explored along the small of her back and as much of her butt as he could get, searching for ingress of any kind. He slid his finger into the top of her crease and wriggled it pushing in.  Again, he remembered that pull from years ago sitting next to her as she read ”Where The Wild Things Are” to him. He thought he remembered his head on her lap and put it there again.

This time there were no madras shorts between his cheek and her thigh and when he turned his head toward her, he caught a scent that was new to him but unmistakable. Like that French guy who ate the cookie and remembered his life; Jake knew that every time he caught this scent in the coming years, it would bring him to this bed, to his bed, in his parent’s house on this Friday night.

“You have to do something for me”, she said patting his head gently.

“Yes”, he said knowing he would have agreed to anything.

“When we’re done, you have to whip me. You have to beat me bloody. This is bad and I have to be punished for it.”

“I’m doing it too.”

“No. I’m the one doing it. It’s my fault, not yours. If you tell anyone I’ll be the one in trouble. You get that right? This is me doing this to you.” Feeling her words running away from her, she stopped then said, “I wish I wasn’t in here.”

“In my room?”

“No. In here.” She tapped her temple.


The Visit – 5

“Brat…” she whispered with a rueful smile.

(Continued from The Visit – 4)

She pulled her T-Shirt over her head and shook out her bowl cut as if it was actually mussed. Hurrying, afraid if she hesitated she wouldn’t, she unsnapped her bra and shook it down her arms. Feeling too exposed standing there, she sat on the bed avoiding his eyes. She appeared slight-not small but slender in a way that she never appeared clothed; more a girl rife with ridges and edges than a fully rounded woman. He recognized the tomboy that had taught him to ride a bike a few years before and he remembered suddenly the pulling feeling he got back then that he didn’t understand.

He bumped his thumb along her ribs and she snorted quickly and blocked him with her elbow.


Protecting her ribs opened her breasts to him. They were no more than thickened medallions on her chest. He rose to the closest one and gently kissed it-once below the nipple then slipped his mouth over it feeling it harden. She arched her back slightly pushing toward his mouth and ran her hand through his thick hair.

“Ohhhh man…” she sighed. “This is so bad…”

He pulled his mouth away from her snapping a thin tendril of saliva. “You say that once more, you’ll be the one getting a spanking”, he said then kissed her hard breastbone before licking the other.

“I deserve it”, she whispered then pulled back as he tried to kiss her.

“No kisses, please…Save them for your girlfriend.” He held his mouth in place-suspended in front of hers. “Please…” He redirected his lips and gave her a kiss on the cheek while cupping the back of her head.

“You’re goofy”, he said breaking and laying back.


The Visit – 4

Her legs were now pressing against the bed and he was looking straight up at her. “I’m afraid something’s going to happen. And I don’t want it to.”

(Continued from The Visit – 3)

“If you don’t want it to, it won’t”, he said.

“It’s not that easy.”

A tear glistened in the gray light coming through the window.

“I can’t help myself. I’m sorry. This is so bad.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” He reached up and brushed the tear from her face before awkwardly squeezing then patting her shoulder. “Do you want to spank me again?” There was no answer. “It’s OK if you want to…”

“No” she whispered allowing her hand to slither under the bedclothes and hover, barely touching his cock, rising like a cobra to the flute. “I don’t want to spank you again.” She pressed her palm lightly onto the hardening bulb blooming through the fly in his boxers. “This is so bad”, she said keeping her hand where it was. “This is so bad”, became her litany, repeated over and over in hopes the droning lamentation might mitigate any repercussions of what was to come.

She unsnapped her jeans and slid them easily over her hips to the floor. Her eyes, adjusted to the light in the room, looked for a reaction. He was up on an elbow watching, desperately wanting to turn on the lamp but fearing light would somehow break a spell and everything would disappear in a puff. Afraid of words, she hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her panties and rolled them down and off. His eyes settled on the dark patch below her belly. Having glanced it before in no way diminished the wonder of beholding it presented to him at eye level.

He reached out then and put his hand on her bare hip registering that this was the first such touch he’d ever had. Her skin was warm and tight across the bone.

“Your shirt too”, he said rubbing the side of her thigh in a way he thought was tender.

“Naw, come on. I have tiny boobs”.

“They’re fine for me. Come on…”

“Brat…” she whispered with a rueful smile.


The Visit – 3


(We’re dropping into the middle here…)

He heard a light scratching at the door before it clicked open slowly, spilling a thin wedge of dim hall light into the room. Her head was a backlit silhouette. He was half expecting her, having heard the phone.

“You awake?” she whispered.

“Yeah, come in…” She seemed to hesitate before sliding sideways inside. He stayed on his back but pushed up onto his pillows. The sheet, twisted up in the chenille spread, covered him from the waist down.

“Don’t you wear anything to bed you brat?” She barked a husky laugh but didn’t look away from his chest and shoulders. The smell of Christmas followed her-he knew she had been into Mom’s gin.

“I’m wearing shorts”, he said.

She hovered over the bed as if stumped about why she was there. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, satisfied to breathe a moment. Was it stuffy in the room? There was a window to her left that looked out over the side yard. She probably should open it. But instead of moving, gulped another breath trying to settle the flapping in her chest. She slid closer to the bed.

She would be fine, went the thought, if she just touched him once. Just reach out and touch his shoulder, rub her hand over his thick, hairless chest, but she didn’t. For a moment she didn’t and almost convinced herself that she wouldn’t. But the moment dragged too long until her hand levitated forward of its own accord and feathered her fingers over his shoulder then across his chest just as she’d imagined, then withdrew. “I…I’m sorry. You’re…I’m sorry.”

“What’s up?” He asked rubbing his eyes but not really sleepy.

“That was your Mom on the phone. She said…she said the car’s broke down, but I think she’s loaded. And if she is your Dad is. So they won’t be coming home tonight.”

“Oh”, he said awakening to the heavy silence muffling him. “I’m fine…. If you want to leave I mean.”

“Uh…I’ve been into your Mom’s liquor. I probably shouldn’t drive….”

“Oh. OK.”

“But I should leave.”

They were speaking slowly-deliberately-as if translating their words from a different language.


Her legs were now pressing against the bed and he was looking straight up at her. “I’m afraid something’s going to happen. And I don’t want it to.”