by Mann, Aliza
The minute his aunt walked away, he continued his trek across the room of people to the dining room, where Mavis sat looking as if she needed his company. The light of the early evening settled on her face and her skin looked as flawless as those days so many years before when he’d lain outside with her. Her naked body, he recalled, was uninhibited and youthful. The tan lines from swimming all day in Wolf Creek that ran across the delicate folds of flesh, creases between her thighs, and that luscious mound. He’d remembered those times many nights while on patrol in Iraq. Memories of those tan lines were one of the things that had helped to keep him sane.
By the time he reached her seated at his mother’s dining room table, the image couldn’t have been fresher in his mind. He remembered those nights as if they were yesterday.
Mavis smiled up at him, her wide lips spreading across her face. He could just see her mouth wrapping around his cock, feel the back of her mouth that felt like heated warm silk against his stretched, taut shaft.
“Jessie Workings.” Her white teeth appeared from beneath those sensational lips.
He leaned down to look into her welcoming eyes. “Mavis VanHorn.” Kneeling forward, he moved closer to her face, her sweet scent wafting under his nose.
A warm blush ran over her. “Hey,” she whispered, as if he’d taken her breath.
“Hey.” Upon closer inspection, he decided she was the same as he’d left her. Those light freckles around her nose, a mole on her cheek that matched the one on her stomach, just left of her navel. Before he straightened his body, he caught a glimpse of C-cup breasts peeking over the demi-cut of her pushup bra. The white shirt she wore left little to be imagined. Her lacy black bra barely seemed to constrain her protruding nipples.
“It’s good to see you, Jessie. I’ve missed you. Missed having you home.”
He saw her mouth moving, but he couldn’t for the life of him concentrate on the words. Her smell, a mixture of peaches and womanly lust, embraced him. Her long legs, tanned and lean, escaped the bottom of her short skirt. He wrestled with the image of them wrapped around his waist like they had been fifteen years earlier on a lazy afternoon.
“Cousin Jessie. Hey, man. I ain’t seen you in a dog’s age. What’s going on, man?”
The tap on his shoulder from his cousin Marcus—Jessie assumed based on his voice—was unexpected, and unwanted. He could have stayed in that moment with Mavis forever. Trapped in her web of sexual chemistry and animal magnetism.
When he turned to greet Marcus, he saw a much-changed young man. His cousin was dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a Razorback jersey. His brown hair was cut short, close to a buzz. About his waist was a belt with a huge, silver buckle and his persona seemed somehow cooler. Damn, he looked like a Northerner. Just a couple of years ago, Marcus had been clean-cut and preppy. A real straight-laced prick that Jessie loved goading about his lack of athleticism.
“Hey, Marcus. It has been a long time. I didn’t get by to see you before I left last time.”
“I know. That was my fault. I was over in Nashville and didn’t gauge my time right. Charge it to my head, not my heart, bro.”
The hug was a half-lean, half-hug, half-handshake, that took all of a minute. It was a minute too long considering where Jessie’s mind was—running up the mile of legs that met in the middle of her thighs in a tight cross. Mavis’ skirt ruffled softly outward to show a little more of her skin just before it curved up into the gentle crease of her ass.
Happy that Marcus didn’t linger, Jessie turned to take a seat beside the woman that had managed to bring him out of his funk. The funk of death that had followed him back across the water. He didn’t know if he had a future in the Marines, but for the first time in months, the black cloud moved just a little further out of his atmosphere. The best of his heart drummed against his chest wall; the gentle tug started in his crotch. Every inch of Mavis made him want to roll around inside her with all of her femininity pressed against him. His fingers entangled in her soft, wavy hair.
“I brought you some of my peach cobbler.” Mavis was smiling now.
She made the absolute best cobbler in Crittenden County. “I appreciate that, Mavis. I can’t wait to get a piece of that.”
Her cheeks burned red at his deliberate insinuation. She turned her head away, checking to see if anyone else overheard, Jessie assumed. She faced him again, the red deepening over her face and chest.
“Stop that, Jessie. Someone’s gonna hear you.” She covered her luscious mouth with her hand and rolled her eyes at his gauche behavior. A little sparkle in her eye let him know she wasn’t as offended by his comment as she let on.
Jessie sat back in his chair to give her a moment to compose herself.
“Everyone, dinner’s ready,” Momma Jewell called out to the visitors in the house. She’d added the extra leaves to the table and set up a couple of card tables in the living room for the children. The scene was closer to Thanksgiving than his homecoming, but he wouldn’t have expected anything less.
His mother was doing what she thought was the best thing to get him accustomed to normal living. What she didn’t realize was he would need something else, something greater and more significant, to make him want to stay in West Memphis. He couldn’t see himself living there. There were too many people with expectations he couldn’t possibly meet.
As the plates hit the table, Mavis prepared his meal for him, heaping portions of hot garlic butter mashed potatoes and baked ham with sticky sweet pineapple rings toothpicked into its sides.
His mouth began to water. Whether he stayed in town or not, he was thankful for all his family and friends, and the food. He watched as M, his special name for her, took her seat beside him. For a moment, the warmth of her body penetrated his cold heart. A shroud of love radiated from her body and wrapped around him. And Jessie embraced it, if only for a moment.
“Jessie, can you bless the food?” His mother’s voice dripped with honey and sentiment.
“Sure, Mom.” Everyone around the table bowed their heads, hands clasped. “Dear Lord, I want to thank you for this day. For allowing me to return to some old and dear family and friends. I am so grateful that they are in my life. I would like to thank you for my peach cobbler, my favorite dessert, from the loving hands that prepared it. And for everything else that has been prepared today. It sure beats the food from the base. And . . . just bless everyone who is hurting today, Lord. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.” Jessie started once to pray for Stanton and his bride, for all the men that had lost their lives along the way. He didn’t want to dampen the moods of all his well wishers visiting him. It wasn’t their war, after all.
Chapter 3
Jessie watched Mavis enter the dimly lit bedroom, her curvy and vivacious outline framed by the light coming from the hallway. That delightful peach scent hit the air as she closed the door and made her way over to his bed.
He stretched across the full-sized bed on his stomach watching her. She’d helped his mother put the dishes away and straighten the house after all the guests had cleared out, while he’d ducked out on the women’s work during all the commotion.
Her hair was gathered atop of her head. He remembered her when she was cleaning the house years ago. She would glisten with sweat, ringlets framing her face. Her neck reminded him of a swan, long and graceful. He used to sneak behind her and kiss her on the supple skin. She would fold into his arms, the way he hoped she would again.
As she drew closer, she stripped the elastic that held the hair in place and shook the thick mane, allowing the stands to fall onto her shoulders and down her back. Standing immediately before the bed, but beyond his reach, she unbuttoned her shirt. She was skillful in the art of seduction. More than the exotic women that Jessie had encountered on his tours, more than anyone he’d ever met. He observed her aureole, darkened by the black lace of he
r bra, her rigid nipples impossibly stretching the fabric.
“I was so happy to see you today, Jessie,” she said in a low, husky voice.
“I can see that.” Jessie took in the sight as she slid her barely there skirt over her hips and let the silky fabric fall limply onto the floor. The black lace boy-cut panties matched her bra. Such silly things that women paid attention to, when all he was wondering was whether or not her sex was still covered in thick brown curls or if she’d gone bare. Would he tickle that soft skin as his shadow of a beard rubbed against her smooth flesh?
“How ya’ been, old friend? I see you haven’t found that mangy dog of yours yet.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed, her mouth pouty with that light pink gloss that she’d always bought from the local drugstore.
Mavis’ hair wasn’t simply brown anymore. A kaleidoscope of russet and auburn layers cascaded over her shoulders, gently framing her face. Her eyes twinkled with the soft yellow light from the lamp beside the bed.
She turned her body to face him, placing a bent leg further onto the bed, the private pinkness of her vulva betrayed by the narrow seat of her panties.
“My mom said that he ran away last winter. She never saw him again. I haven’t had time to check around for a new one.”
“Pretty sad. I guess he got tired of waiting on you to come back. I have another question, though.”
Jessie was distracted by the growing scent of arousal in the room, but struggled to focus on the question that passed her welcoming lips. “What’s that?” he asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper and hoarse with need.
Her lips took a devious and suggestive turn. “Can I see your medal?”
“Later.” Jessie’s gaze ran over her soft skin. Her toned stomach touted a tiny belly button that sat above a silver belly chain. Her tits were full, ripe, and succulent. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, placing her hand on his already bare chest.
Jessie fingered the end of her lush strands, then rubbed her shoulder. He traced a narrow path with the tip of his finger over her swollen breasts and down her stomach that trembled with a nervous shake as she breathed in and out in anticipation. He knew that he had a strong effect on her. For that matter, he knew that no man could make her feel the way he could.
Once, back before he had become so worldly, she’d turned him inside out. After a few tours abroad and the frequent trips into the neighboring town of his base with some of the local girls, he’d learned how to return the favor. Eighteen years was a long time, and now he was a fully grown man. With each visit home, he had taught her something new and she appreciated his tutelage, having never once turned him away.
“You’ve been gone a long time, Jessie.”
Something about her eyes was different this time. She looked vulnerable. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, something was different about him, too.
“Too long, M.” He stood and circled the bed. Her eyes followed him and their gaze locked, until he was directly before her. He kneeled, pushing her thighs further apart. The panty moved aside easily with one forefinger. The scent of her soft perfume and excited sex filled his nose, a sexy smell that was warm and intoxicating. The tips of his fingers rubbed the soft, wet flesh just inside her outer lips. The creamy, silky juices welcomed him.
He slid two fingers into her honey-slick canal and watched as her head rolled back in ecstasy. A gentle moan escaped from her throat and her legs tensed on either side of him, pressing against his forearms. She repositioned herself, giving him greater access to her needy pussy, flexing her feet upward, tensed against the carpeted floor.
Wrapping his free arm around her thigh, Jessie furthered his probe into her sex, the hairless lips of her mound quivering from the sensation. Twisting his finger while he was inside, he pressed his thumb onto the hard clit and flipped it back and forth. Her back arched forward, the gentle light shining through the windows illuminating the lace of her bra. Her nipples drew into tight balls puckered with arousal.
Mavis’ hands ran over the bristles of his hair, urging his head closer to the bundle of nerve endings just beneath his thumb.
“Please, Jessie . . . don’t do this to me.”
She was begging and that was like music to his ears. He had developed a talent for magnificent torture, sexually. He knew how to drive women crazy before his dick even got into their naughty wetness.
“You’ll do more than that, M. Pretty soon, you’ll beg me to stop.”
Her body responded with a quiver and a whimper that bordered on crying. He tasted her creamy thighs, a sensual suckle near the delicate bend just alongside her sex. She tasted sweet. Her toned thighs fell open further, the soft lighting of the room showing him the way to her treasure.
Her fingers gently caressed his scalp, nudging him closer but he resisted. She squirmed as he blew his heavy breaths on her skin; the product of her ecstasy poured over his fingers as they simultaneously manipulated her contracting flesh.
He wanted her to suck him the way she’d done when he was younger. Her slippery tongue running underneath his dick, pressing it into the soft roof of her hot mouth.
“One lick, M. One lick and then it’s me. I want to fuck your bad ass mouth.”
“Anything . . . whatever. Just kiss me. There.”
Jessie freed her breasts from their confines, shifting the lacy fabric to the side, running his forefinger and thumb over the engorged tips. He rubbed them between his fingers and drove Mavis’ legs into a vise grip. He pushed her panties aside and opened her pussy with his fingers and explored its secret places with his tongue, the silky skin collapsing as his tongue-fucked her, probing in and out, around the edges, beneath the sensitive curve of her swollen clitoris. He imbibed it, pulling the knot of flesh outward and massaging it with his tongue. As he released, he warned, “It better be that good, Mavis.”
She was breathless, her legs shaking. He stood and she pushed herself upward, her back rising over the mattress, her panting mouth inches away from the heavy bulge of his cock. She unzipped his pants and reached inside. Hot hands pulled his heavy erection out, rolling the head over her lips as if she was saying hello to an old friend.
Jessie stared down at her eager mouth, her pink lips stretching over the sensitive head before she engulfed him. His cock disappeared into her quivering hole, and her eyes closed, her head eagerly bobbing up and down over the shaft. Her tongue moved, rough and soft, over the aching skin and tight flesh in a delightful contradiction. Her mouth waged an unceasing war against his erection, urging him to release.
He grabbed her lush hair with both hands, twisting her neck so that he could see the floor show. Watching as his manhood disappeared again and again into her cavernous mouth. Her forehead creased as she concentrated, fighting to drain him—strip him of his seed. She sucked him, taking him in further than before, the closeness of her throat around the tip of his cock making his toes curl.
Sex with Mavis was like a competition. She worked for him to call her name, to break him. He knew it and benefited from her competitive streak.
He concentrated on maintaining control, while the wetness of her mouth collapsed onto him in excruciating pleasure. She placed her hand over his full, drawn balls and rubbed them. Removing her mouth from his penis, she dropped further down, licked his testicles, then nibbled his sensitive flesh and finally placed her lips over his sack in an intimate kiss.
His world shook, causing him to lose his balance. In an effort to right himself, he moved backward to the recliner in the corner of his room and sat down. Mavis moved with him, crawling on her knees. When he sat, her head dipped into his lap again, taking him into her mouth until the tip of him met the bend in the back of her throat.
He winced at the explosion that began in the pit of his stomach and ran the length of his dick, pulling him apart. He seized Mavis’ hair while she milked
every drop from his pulsing manhood.
She lifted her head, a satisfied grin on her face. Jessie was sure that she hadn’t anticipated his continued arousal. He watched as she moved her scantily clad figure back onto the bed and leaned backward. He rose to his feet, his cock still pronounced and engaged. Her eyes widened, her gaze running over every inch of his body. She slid her panties and bra off during his lingering approach.
He gave her a little tap on her thigh and placed his hands on her hips, positioning her onto her knees.
“I want that.” He ran his fingers along the crease of her ass. He pulled her upward, close to him, fondling her plump, soft breasts and running his hand into her sex, dampening his fingertips. Pushing her forward, he found the small pucker of skin at the base of her cheeks, then wet his finger and slowly slid the tip into the tight, unfamiliar entrance.
Her back arched as she lunged her body forward before slowly easing back against his knuckle. She whimpered in pleasure/pain and her breathing came in short pants.
“Can I have you here, Mavis?” he asked, slipping his finger out, then back in again.
Even before she nodded, Jessie knew that the answer would be yes. He leaned down and trailed kisses along her along her spine to her neck, noting her body relaxing as he worked his way up the pale expanse of her skin.
He steadied her, positioning the head of his cock at the entrance of her ass. His moved slowly, watchful as he awaited her body’s response to the unaccustomed intrusion. He didn’t want to hurt her, but this was the last part of her body that he had never explored. Just as she had been able to bring him to completion quicker than she had ever before, he wanted something from her that was equally monumental.
As he eased himself into her a little further, he reached around to her sex and massaged her hot, moist core. He watched her body move in confusion from the various sensations.
