The Colonel Comes Home – 3

(Continued from The Colonel Comes Home – 2)

“Fried Christ!” the Colonel grumbled as sweat leaked from his hat band into his eyes. He was glad they had started before sunup but now it didn’t matter. He coaxed his burro over a slight rise then into the darkening cool between two boulders. “Hot!” he called to Diego who was keeping the pace ahead of him.

“It’s good for us, this sun”, he called back over his shoulder. “Wait till you see the crop.”

The Colonel pulled up and lifted his hat to wipe his brow. The poppies weren’t going anywhere-they would wait for him. His foreman went not much farther before realizing he was alone. He turned his burro to find his father drinking from his gourd in the shade. “I’m sorry, Colonel”, he said. “I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t apologize for doing what every man your age does. Rush forward, run here-run there. It’s your running about-being everywhere at the same time- that makes this estate, and us, rich. Don’t apologize for it. I did it too. Years ago. Now, I sit in the shade when God provides.” Diego took the offered gourd and drank deeply.

Diego had wanted him to see the crop since his return and this trip to the top of the mountain was for him. The boy was proud of his efforts as he should have been. The Colonel liked the flowers, he liked the colors, he liked the clearings hacked, in a single winter, out of the dark jungle-that showed power. But he wasn’t a farmer, this Colonel. None of his people were of the earth. He was a fighter, a soldier, a one-time mercenary, now unquestioned ruler of what once had been the largest regency in the country and owner of the largest estate in the territory. What he liked about this crop was what he liked about everything he touched: the gold that it would eventually yield. His growing fortune. The gold to buy more soldiers. That’s what he cared about. That’s what he had come to see. He sat in the shade until the sweat on his back felt cool then gestured Diego onward.

It was after two when they finally arrived back at the hacienda trudging slowly through the glowing orange trees. He had toured the poppy fields and spent the requisite time with the troops stationed up there. They were always happy to see him and worth the trip but almost nine hours on a burro was plenty for the Colonel and he left his with a groom and turned to Diego. “Join me for lunch? Some wine, perhaps?”

“I would love to Colonel”, he demurred. “But we are slaughtering from the southern herd in the morning. I’m down some caballeros and need to gather stragglers.”

The Colonel smiled and waved him off. “Go to it Diego! We need every cow-it will be a tough winter. I’ll drink enough for both of us.” With a quick, “Adio’” he was off to his cows. The older man walked slowly, straightening a little more each step. Surely, it was his imagination, but he swore he heard his spine groaning like a tree in the wind.

His coming had, of course, been foreseen and the wine, cheese, fruits and bread were at the table. He unbuckled his saber and took off his pistol, thinking about how his hardware grew heavier every year. He was looking directly upward and digging his knuckles into his kidneys when he heard a light tread on the veranda. It was one of the serving girls…Constance, Consuelo…he couldn’t remember. “Yes?” he asked.

“Excellency. The girl…she’s back.” She had nothing else to say.

The Colonel stared blinking then opened his hands to her. “Which girl, daughter? It’s been a busy week.”

“The one whose mother you…whipped.” Her voice dropped at the last word-not wanting to speak it in his presence lest…

“Ah, Laurencia”, he remembered derailing her train of thought. “She’s brought her burro back for a visit. I’ll pet him but not ride him. Enough with burros today. Please, fetch her. Send her to me.” He poured a cup of wine and took it onto his tongue. It was the Rose, served cool from the cellars. He kept it on his tongue before-eyes closed-swallowing slowly and luxuriantly. If the priests served this at Mass he never would have left the Church.

He felt, more than heard the girl cross the patio. He waved to her.  “Come here girl.” Laurencia hung back-only for a moment. Her transformation from almost-woman, back to child was stunning enough that the Colonel had to keep looking at her to ensure that this pretty waif was the same sent to him for carnal pleasure just days before. It wasn’t just the plain housedress either. The girl seemed chastened somehow. He saw something in the way she moved-there was a stiffness. His stomach hardened when he saw what might have been a thickness on her lower lip-as from a blow. He registered it, then ignored it.

The Colonel sat to get down to her level and spread his spindly legs. “Come,” he said, reaching out his hands, beckoning. “I guess there are no eggs for me this trip”, he joked but she didn’t smile. “I’m sorry”, she mumbled. “Come, come”, she took his hand shyly and slipped into the protectorate of his horseman’s thighs. She noticed, of all things, how clean his white canvas trousers were. She whimpered lightly as he turned her but gave into his gentle push to bend slightly over his left leg steadying herself with one hand on the table. She made no sound as he drew up her rough cotton dress behind.

To preserve her modesty, he only pulled the dun colored cloth up her legs but far enough to reveal thick switch slashes that left angry welts and a few cuts on the back of her thighs. He could imagine, but didn’t want to see, what her bottom looked like. His heart raced, and he thought of his saber.

“Your mother did this?”

“Yes Colonel.”

“Why?”

“She was angry.”

“Tell me true girl. Did you misbehave in any way to deserve this?”

“No sir. I was asleep. She awoke me with a stick.”

She was young; inexperienced in the ways of men. She didn’t hear his tone of voice change from sweetly cajoling to hardened steel. He lowered her dress and helped her to straighten. “Buenila!” Being deeply experienced, the old woman recognized the Colonel’s tone and materialized at the edge of the veranda like steam from a fissure in the ground.

“Am I in trouble Colonel?” Laurencia asked timidly.

“No, my dear…Not at all.”

“Buenila, take Laurencia inside, bathe her, dress her wounds…”

“Wounds?”

“You will see them…and feed her. I’m betting she’s hungry, aren’t you daughter?” She answered with a tiny nod. “Go”, he said with a wave of his hand. “Let Buenila care for you. She’s had girls just like you…she’ll know what to do. Go.”

Buenila the crone, barren since birth, never a natural mother, took Laurencia Palacios gently by the hand and led her into the cool darkness of the house. Inside, they moved to the left away from the Colonel’s quarters toward the servants and guest rooms. They passed Buenila’s small cell without comment and came to a room glowing green from sunlight reflected off the leaves through the high window. The bathing room had a handsome teak bathtub, a dressing table, a rattan lounge and small fireplace in the corner.

The girl balked when Buenila tried to undress her, so she left her be and took to filling the tub. The cistern water was warm this time of year but not warm enough so Buenila added from the steaming kettle that was always near to boiling on the fire. The scent of the oils added to the water was as enticing as the old woman’s tuneless humming was calming.

This time, when the old woman pulled at the laces at her neck, Laurencia did not resist and allowed the dress to be pulled up over her head covering her small breasts with crossed arms. Had the Colonel availed himself of what had been so crudely offered he would have found a girl on the cusp of womanhood; her throat long and thin with matted brown hair cascading over almond colored shoulders. Firm as a spring peach, she glowed in the dappled, reflected sunshine.

She pulled back when the old woman tried to pull her arms down. Again, leaving her be, Buenila cupped her hands and reached into the bathtub scooping a deep handful of water into her mouth. Then, cheeks swollen, she looked at the girl, crossed her eyes and pulled her ears spitting a stream of water out of her mouth like a demented swan, splatting Laurencia in the middle of the forehead. The girl froze in amazement then burst into laughter raising her hands to cover her face. Seeing an opening, the crone moved quickly to tickle her under both arms. The girl screeched and, dissolving into giggles, pulled her arms to her sides, her nakedness, at least for the moment, forgotten.

This time, when offered a hand, Laurencia took it and turned stepping gingerly into the tub. The old woman quickly glanced at the crosshatching on the girl’s backside and again raged quietly behind her humming.

“What is that song?” Laurencia asked, wincing as she sat in the tub.

“I don’t know. Mamma sang it. It is the sound of my childhood.”

“That was a long time ago, I bet.”

In my head, thought the old woman, it is still happening. “A very long time”, she said.

The girl allowed her hair to be washed, then to be bathed top and bottom, inside and out.  Stepping out of the tub she stood comfortably, shifting from foot to foot as Buenila dried her with thick cotton towels. Then, led by the hand, she followed the old woman to the couch and lay naked across her lap. The unguent that Buenila applied to the girl’s wounds was an old native concoction made of jungle herbs and weeds.

“This is not so bad”, she whispered interrupting her chorale as she rubbed and ministered to every stripe and mark. “You will be fine…” When finished she moved to help the girl up but heard in her breathing, in her regular and rhythmic snotty, snuffling, that she had fallen fast asleep. Buenila smiled and sat back, her arms protectively draped across the girl.

“That’s all right. Sleep Choochie”, she thought using a name her gramma had called her. “The Colonel will do the right thing.”

(Continuing…)

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Beth

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(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.

“Yeah.”

“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.

“Nothing…Dumb.”

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…)

Maddie – 4

Maddie

(Continued from Maddie – 3)

Maddie hadn’t moved much; just skootched up to lounge against the headboard with a pillow behind her, the bedclothes bunched at her waist. She ran her tongue gently over swollen lips, tender from the force of Chelsea’s kisses. Down below too-she could feel the buzz echoing as she pressed her legs together. The release of the spanking, then the sex, then the sex again had left her physically spent and pleasantly drained. She watched-a hollow china doll in repose-Chelsea dress. Chelsea, on the other hand, was likewise physically softened but her brain, while not firing wild synapses anymore, was dense and unreadable as stacked cordwood.

“Do you?” Maddie asked. Chelsea, set to slip her shirt over her head, looked over her shoulder to see Maddi was reading the “I Need a Good Spanking’ message written across her panties.

“The guy who bought these thought so.”

“Guy huh?”

“Not like that…a friend. He brought us.”

“A friend who buys you kinky underwear…”

“We live with him…Gennie and I…”

“The other zombie.”

“Yes.”

“He’s your landlord, then?”

“More.”

“Lover?”

Chelsea turned a crooked smile toward the woman on the bed. “What are you digging for little miss?” She took hold of Maddie’s chin gently and rubbed her thumb lightly across her lips, her smile widening as Maddi’s nipples swelled slightly at her touch. “He’s not my lover, he’s Gennie’s lover.  I’m gay-not bi. And I’m…unattached”, she said making eye contact. “Enough for you?”

“Does he spank you-this landlord?”

“He has, yeah.”

“Really? Like fun?”

“No. Not fun at all.”

Maddie let it drop, watching Chelsea’s bottom spread as she bent to slip her feet into her jeans. It was early, sure, but she didn’t sense a sub bone in this woman’s body. She felt a little tremor at the thought of her taking a spanking she didn’t want to take.

As she snapped her jeans, there was a light knock on the door and Gennie’s harsh whisper: “Chelsea?” The two women shared a glance and Maddie shrugged, her round breasts bobbing.

“Come in Gen.”

Gen paused halfway through the door her eyes caught up on Maddie’s chest. Did she say come in? Then Maddie smiled warmly if sleepily and made no move to cover up. “Come on”, she said. Gen closed the door behind her. The steamy, thick aroma of love hung in the air.

“Uh…” she said slowly, “Dad said to find you.”

“Dad?” said Maddie.

“It’s not like that”, said Chelsea.

“He told me to go find my sister.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah. He’s a little wired…funny but wired.”

“I get that…” said Maddie to no one in particular.

“They want you in the library.”

“Uh oh…” said Maddie.

“Uh…” Chelsea paused, a cold spot lighting in her stomach

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“He said we’d both be getting it tonight.”

“And you said I will…It is what it is. But He’s in with the Bartons. I think they want to meet you.”

With a quick “Oh, right”, Chelsea slipped on her sneakers. She bent and took a handful of Maddie’s hair and kissed her hard on the mouth knowing how tender it was. “Don’t know how long I’ll be. Hang with Gen.”

“Yes, Ma’am…”

As she was crossing to the door Gen gave her best puppy-dog eyes. “Nothing for me?”

Chelsea’s long arm coiled around her waist and pulled her tight. Her kiss was softer than Maddie’s, more familiar; less passionate but a good tonguing away from being sisterly. “I’ll see you later”, she said and was out the door.

“I’m Maddie.”

“Hi…You know I’m…”

“Yep.”

Gen pulled a chair out from the makeup table and sat. She was uncomfortable walking in on an obviously naked Maddie, but she relaxed seeing that it bothered her not at all.

“You guys hit it off, I guess.”

“You could say that.”

“How’s your butt?”

Maddie wriggled for effect. “Itches, actually.” Gennie could not ignore the slipping blankets revealing a small slash of hip. What was she doing?

“Didn’t she lotion you?”

“What, my butt? No…just her tongue and…spit, I guess.”

“Nice.” Gen sniffed and turned to the makeup table rifling through the jars and tubes till she found the body lotion. She snatched it up and sat on the side of the bed. “This seems to be my specialty. Roll over.”

“Really?”

“You shy all of a sudden?” With effort, Gennie kept her voice flat. She had pretty much figured out what she was doing.

Maddie locked onto her eyes. “Not shy. Little surprised, is all.”

“It’s not like that girl. I’m nursin’, not lovin’. You’ll thank me for this.”

Maddie slid down and rolled over onto her belly. The blankets crossed the small of her back and covered her below. “I really thought today was going to be a bust,” Maddie mumbled into the pillow. Gennie Slid her thumb down the bumps of her warm backbone until she ran into the blanket which she peeled back slowly revealing Maddie’s firm upturned bottom blossoming in sundown pinks and darker reds.

There was only the sound of their breathing as Gen squeezed dollops of lotion onto the warm skin and rubbed it gently in circles. Then, as she had with Chelsea, the soft massage spread beyond where the paddle had touched and Maddie began to writhe a little.

“No matter what you say Gen, this feels naughty. You sure Chelsea will be ok with this?”

“We’ll find out when I tell her.”

“You’re going to tell her?”

“Absolutely. We have no secrets”. Her thumb slipped between the warm cheeks and grazed her asshole. “If I’m going to get spanked anyway, it might as well be for something good.”

“Mmmm, good point.” Maddie sighed lifting her backside into the soft, wet rubbing,  wishing she could slow the flow of juices that had begun to run again….

(Continuing…)

Chelsea – 6

img_3892(Continued from Blue)

He was sitting on the wicker couch, feet up on a table he had made, watching the sun slip behind the workshop. He had stayed out in the shop to give them some privacy but figured a half an hour should be enough, for Chrissakes. Still, it was an hour later and he was well into his second bourbon when the women finally joined him on the porch.

Gennie was wearing an old Steeler jersey that covered her to mid-thigh and quite probably nothing else. She smiled shyly, her green eyes alight with the sunset. Chelsea followed, more chastely attired in the robe that seemed to get passed around cinched tightly at the waist. She moved directly to the couch-to what should have been Gennie’s spot- and sat gingerly beside him, comfortably leaning close.

“Will all my spankings end like that?”

“All? What kind of mayhem do you have planned?”

“You never know the trouble a girl can get into…”

He put his arm around her and squeezed lightly. “Just don’t go delinquent on us.”

Geneva, facing away leaning against the railing, heard him say ‘us’ and her breast swelled a little. The carnal warmth she had felt between her legs spread higher.

“I think I might have oversold…remember when I told you about being gay?”

“Your ‘keep your hands off me’ speech?”

“Yeah, that one. Might have oversold that a little.”

“Oh really…”

“We’re still not having sex…”

“You got that right”, Geneva piped up still facing away.

“But a hug sometime. Like this. A touch-would be OK.”

“Something like this?” He turned and kissed the top of her head, smelling Gennie in her hair.

“Yeah…that’s fine”, she settled into him. “I’m getting the feeling you might be worthy.” Then, “Hey showoff!” Gen, feeling a little left out, had leaned against the railing far enough to clearly show that she definitely wasn’t wearing panties.

“Maybe someone else needs a spanking around here.”

“Great minds think alike”, Chelsea agreed.

“Hey”, Gennie spun back around. “Now that we’re on the subject…that paddle. Where did that come from?”

“Something I had around, is all.”

“Uh huh. For how long?”

“Quite awhile.”

“Let me ask, did that paddle cross your wife’s naked ass?”

They never really spoke of Linda but this wasn’t exactly talking about her.

“Might have, once or twice.”

“So, same paddle on your wife’s bare ass, crosses Chelsea’s bare ass…”

“Seems so, yeah.”

Chelsea, leaning still leaning against him poked him in the chest with every word. “You have to make another paddle.”

“Definitely”, said Gennie.

He reached for the bourbon. “Good point. I’ll make two.”

Gennie’s smiled wavered a bit at that but perked back up when Chelsea, settling into his chest, winked at her.

(Continuing…)

Chelsea – 5

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(Continued from Chelsea – 4)

 

Geneva knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in”, she muffled. Chelsea was on the bed, laying on her side facing the window. She was fully clothed, but for her boots.

“You OK?”

“Sure”, she sniffed. The wall against her tears had evidently collapsed on the way up to her room. “My ass burns like hell.”

“I bet.” Geneva sat on the bed and handed the tube of salve over her shoulder. “He sent me to give this to you.  Apparently, it’s for burns, sunburn…he said it would help.”

“Thoughtful.”

Geneva rubbed her shoulder. “Sorry Chel…”

“Wasn’t your fault”, she sighed and handed the tube back. “What did he say?”

“When?”

“When he sent you up with this stuff.”

“Oh…he said, that I should…take care of you. That you’d want to see me…But I can leave…”

“Come on,” she almost snickered as she undid her belt. “Take care of me then.” She unsnapped, unzipped and pushed her jeans and underwear down to her knees, rolling onto her belly.

“Yeeouch”, Gennie said tentatively touching the double bulls-eye bruises on Chelsea’s bottom. “Has to hurt…” She squeezed a dollop of lotion onto her right cheek and rubbed gently.

“It hurts for sure, but guess what I won’t be doing anymore?”

“What?”

“Smoking anywhere near the workshop.”

“Guess it worked then. But I don’t know how you could stand it!

“Sometimes it’s easier to take a beating than to live with the disappointment.”

“Huh?…What?…I’m sorry.” Gennie was only half listening, distracted by the feel of Chelsea’s hot bottom under her slick, ministering fingers. Her skin mounded and crested as she massaged from the inside out allowing peeks of the treasures barely hidden in her cracks and creases.

“Remember the way he looked at me when he got out of the truck? That ‘you let me down look?’ I’d rather have my ass beat every day of the week than live with that.”

“I think I remember that…” Gennie said remembering her own spanking.

“Complicated”, Chelsea said.

“Truly…”

Geneva rubbed in circles, first one cheek then the other. She dabbed more lotion and widened her circles to the small of her back and then down to the tops of Chelsea’s thighs-places the paddle hadn’t touched. Her hands navigated the lithe body like a well-remembered but seldom trod path.  “Mmmm…that’s nice” Chelsea said into the pillow. As if awaiting a signal, Geneva allowed her hand and it’s exploring fingers to slide between her cheeks and rub up over her tight little button and further down between her legs. Chelsea began to wriggle at the touch.

“Would you do something for me?”

“If I can.”

“Slip my plants the rest of the way off.”

Geneva smiled ruefully watching her finger tease its way up the crevasse between the mottled cheeks. “I don’t know if that’s what he had in mind.”

“He sent you up here to rub lotion on my bare butt. He didn’t say just to bring me the salve, did he? What do you think he had in mind?”

“But you know he and I are…”

“Jesus! Don’t say it. You think I don’t know? This is a big house but not that big. I hear you guys at it every night.”

“Not every night!”

“Sometimes twice a night!”

Geneva giggled like a kid and took the bottom of Chelsea’s butt cheek in hand to knead it gently, her thumb playing at the soft spot just inside her thigh. “I just don’t know…” she stopped herself frustrated, but Chelsea would have none of it.

“Look, I can’t-not with your hands on me like this, imagine you leaving me here alone with my pants off and having to rub one off again. That’s all I do! Alone in my room while you make crazy love down the hall. I’m like a nun in here. Come on Gen-don’t make me beg! I know you don’t…feel about me the way I could about you. But you like me well enough don’t you?”

“Of course I like you well enough…”

“You don’t hate me do you?”

Chelsea was so engrossed in her pleading that she didn’t immediately feel her jeans being pulled over her feet. “Jesus, when did you become such a drama queen?”

“Celibacy makes cowards of us all”, Chelsea said allowing her legs, unbound by her jeans and panties, to fall open.

“May I never find that out”, Geneva said. Then, with a well-aimed and light smack on the bottom, “Roll over. I’ve seen enough of your narrow ass for one day.”

(Continuing…)

 

Naughty James – The Fence Post

Pretty much immediately follows Lucky James-Mrs. Fortescue

He knocked gently at her door, not really sure what he was doing. He had a fairly decent idea-an overall plan-just not sure of the details. Almost immediately Jane Fortescue opened the door a crack. He could see nothing but her clear eyes and flushed cheeks below a shock of bangs loosely fallen.

He didn’t know if he expected to see a distraught tear stained face or what. She was a toughie, he guessed and maybe took a step back-if not literally at least in his head.

“James?” she asked-expecting an answer. Funny. A moment ago he thought he might control this meeting.

“Oh…I”, he stammered having expected a warmer greeting. “I was just checking to see if you were alright.”

She opened the door just wide enough for him to enter and he stepped just inside. She didn’t close it.

“If I’m alright? What? You think a spanking by the Lady of the Manse might put me in hospital?”

“It looked like it hurt”, he said trying to recover.

“Hurt? Of course it hurt you dunce!” She smiled crookedly. “Still does you want the truth. In an itchy burning sort of way. But I’ll be OK. She needed to get that out of her system. As did I.” She trailed off a little at the thought and touched her backside. “But Jesus….”

James leaned against the open door and conjured up his most fetching smile.

“I thought maybe, if you’d like, I could rub some lotion on it…to cool it, you know?”

“Oh, you want to rub lotion on my bum, do you?”

“I thought it would make you feel better.”

“Oh, to make me feel better. I understand. And tell me James, how would rubbing lotion on my poor hot bottom make you feel?”

“Like a fence post, Ma’am.” He said looking her square in the eyes. “Like a concrete fence post.”

“You are a bad boy James”, she said tapping his chest for emphasis. “Very bad. Naughty even. But we knew that, didn’t we. When the lady let it be known that she was thinking of bringing you on, and what did I think, that’s what I told her. ‘That Pretty James Cook is a naughty one.’”

The smile in her words brightened on her face. With one hand she pulled James inside while with the other she pushed the door closed. It occurred to James that he maybe didn’t have to think about what to do next.

She took a step backward and began unbuttoning her shirt which she rolled off of her shoulders and tossed aside onto the chair. James barely had a moment to enjoy the sight of her cleavage rising out of the black bra before she reached deftly behind, and unsnapped letting it fall to the floor between them. Released to play, her full grapefruit sized breasts bloomed toward him, hanging just enough to appear ripe and succulent. “I think we’ll let my bum alone right now James…it’s had enough attention.”

“Whatever you say”, James agreed

She made a move to cup his head-to pull it down to the nearest breast-but James was quicker, dipping his head to kiss then kiss, then kiss again. He circled the left breast with his tongue then the right. Mrs. Fortescue, quietly humming in the back of her throat, guided his suckling head with both hands.

“Here, wait”, she said pushing him away gently so she could reach down, unsnap and lower her pants for the second time in the hour. Now she pushed them all the way off and tossed them with the shirt. Then, watching James’ face closely to track his eyes, she rolled down the pink panties and kicked them away. His earlier view had been from the glorious rear but this time he gazed hungrily at the heavy thatch of silver streaked black hair.

He reached out and enveloped her naked body flexing his strong arms as he pulled her tight to him. He buried his face in her hair, then her neck, luxuriating in the smell and feel of her. His hands rubbed across, then down, her back-tracing her spine downward to cup her still warm bottom cheeks.

“Easy there, bad boy…” she whispered into his chest.

She backed away slowly and James followed in lock step-their tango taking them to the bed. She sat and wriggled as her bruised backside touched the chenille. Jane pulled at his belt as he quickly unbuttoned and discarded his shirt onto the growing pile. He felt his chinos open and fall, allowing his handsome little fence post to spring free.

“Hello there James”, Mrs. Fortescue said admiringly. “I’d wager you had a difficult time keeping him contained in the library.”

“You have no idea.”

“Well, he’s free now”, she said taking hold of him with her left hand and rubbing his hip, then around to his firm bottom, with her right. “And I get to see what all the girls sing about.”

She looked up at him with a naughty smile that-in an unexpected turn-fairly melted him. For a moment he saw the nude woman before him as she once was, a girl-sweet, rounded and innocent-that he wanted to please. He was so easy, this one, Jane thought pleasantly, letting the smile dim only slightly. If he had the feeling deep in his brain that this was playing out to someone’s plan besides his own, he let it be. Typically, a naked woman holding his cock, trumped all thought.

She let him go and scootched uncomfortably up the bed. Before he could follow, she rolled over onto her belly exposing her pink and crimson mottled bottom to him. She sighed heavily into the pillow. “There you are James”, she said. “Have at it…”

He knelt beside her and lay his hand on the back of her thigh. Were it possible for his dick to get harder it would have. As it was, he wondered if he might not burst through his own skin like a chrysalis becoming something larger and harder. Maybe even with wings.

“No lotion?” he asked, running the hand up her thigh to the warm sit spot at the bottom of her bottom.

“No. Make do with kisses”, she said.

He guided her legs apart and settled between them, lowering himself to gently kiss her bottom. One cheek, then the other. He kissed the milky dimples at the top, then the pink glow high. Then down to the red hue in the center and bottom. The heat was subsiding but the skin was dry and scratchy until he dampened it with his sweet lips.

She moaned softly and he reacted by fingering her cheeks open and darting a tiny tongue exploration into the darkness between them. She answered his wet probe with a louder moan and a pull toward the pillows raising and splitting her bottom toward him. He pushed his tongue deeper into her crevasse and caught the sweet scent of vanilla.

Eschewing kissing he graduated to lapping and licking, dragging his tongue across one cheek and over to the other pausing to flick at the spot between that always elicited a moan or grunt. She pushed open further and he took the invitation to reach between her legs and rub a finger along the swollen wetness that opened easily to him. “James!” she coughed. “Oh, James…” The way she splayed and thrust made her clit easy to reach and he rubbed the swollen nub gently flicking his tongue against her tight little button. He opened her with a second finger. “Wait!” Jane fairly growled.

In a surprisingly nimble move she tossed her leg up and over him flopping onto her back. Her breasts heaved fetchingly and her belly button-deep and wide enough to hold a fat ripe cherry-winked at him. He made a move to crawl up onto her but froze when she pressed a hand firmly to the top of his head. “Down, James. Down” she breathed, giving two separate orders with the same single word.

He crawled backward as she spread her legs and lifted them toward her chest. Judging his position and angle correctly James executed a perfect tongue first head-dive that landed him deep in the syrupy tangle of Mrs. Fortescue’s vanilla flavored forest.

“Mmmmm” growled James as he filled her with his tongue and, nibbling, massaged her with his lips.

“Ahhhhhh” she answered pulling her knees further apart, brought almost to tears by the thought that she was about to come in Pretty James Cook’s mouth…