by Gwen Masters
“Ma?”
Janette sighed and looked back at him, her eyes wet. “You’re giving up, then?”
He took a deep breath before he dropped the bombshell. “I filed for divorce today.”
“Richard, no!”
“I’m sorry, Ma.”
“But did you have to do that?”
“I feel like she divorced me a long time ago.”
Janette got up from the chair and walked around the kitchen, flapping her dishtowel at the counter. “But it’s not right, Richard.”
“It’s not right that she left me, Ma. Why don’t you ever say such things about her actions?”
Janette shook her head hard. “Women have reasons for running, son.”
“Like what?”
She sighed and looked out of the window. “Did you do anything to her?”
“Like what? Hit her? Step out on her?”
Janette shot him a look. He glared right back. “No. I haven’t done a single thing to deserve this. I was the perfect husband, Ma. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she wanted more adventure and passion than I was giving her.”
Janette eyed him carefully. “More passion?”
“You know what I mean. She always seemed to want to be somewhere else. Well, now she is, and I hope she’s happy. I want to be happy, too.”
“You could get a private investigator and find her.”
“I could, but I won’t. I’m not going to chase a woman who doesn’t want me to catch her.”
“What if something has happened to her? Something bad?”
“It hasn’t.” He shook his head. “Her family knows where she is. They just won’t tell me. They seem to think it’s my fault, just like you do.”
Janette stared at him with hard eyes. “Nobody in our family has ever divorced. We’re the only family around who hasn’t. Marriages have lasted until death, for over ten generations.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it, Ma? You having the upper hand on everybody else?”
Janette’s face flooded with heat, and he knew he was right.
“Well, the family tradition ends here. I’m getting divorced. If you want to kick me out of the Paris family for it, then go right ahead. It won’t be the first time I was abandoned.”
Janette’s mouth dropped open. “You’re always a part of this family!”
Richard stood up and walked around the table. He put his arms around his mother, and she leaned into them with no reservation. She might not be happy with him, but she loved him, and he knew it.
“I’m sorry, Ma.”
“I’m sorry too, son.”
“Are any of your good biscuits left?”
She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Look in the microwave.”
There they were. Richard grinned as he pulled the plate of leftovers out of the microwave. That’s where breakfast leftovers went, for as long as he could remember. He stuck a piece of bacon in a cold biscuit and took a bite, the flavour reminding him of being a kid and sneaking leftovers because he had slept in a little too long.
Some things were changing, but other things would always be the same.
Rebecca had been almost too busy to breathe from the moment she arrived back in Miami. She hadn’t even found time to get the car to the body shop for a paint job—the shop kept calling, but she hadn’t been able to find the time when they were open. She was too busy filling obligations. Now that her name was getting out there and she was building up a reputation for quality and good prices, her schedule was booked solid. She had juggled like crazy to get away for the week she had spent in Iowa, and now she was paying the price.
Standing in her darkroom in Richard’s dress shirt, she hung another 8x10 on the line. Anyone who took a look at her darkroom was surprised at how simple it really was. Since most of her creative work was taken on black and white film, she didn’t have to worry about keeping the room completely dark. The safelight cast an amber glow over everything, a soothing light that made the tiny space seem like another world. There were five pans situated on a narrow table in front of her, each of them for a separate chemical. Across the top of the room was a thin cotton line, hung just like a clothesline from one corner to the other, where she hung her pictures to dry.
She looked at the latest photograph and smiled. It was part of a series, pictures of the covered bridge in Iowa, and more than a few pictures of Richard throwing snowballs. He had told her over the phone last night that almost all the snow was gone, and she had found that hard to believe. It seemed there was so much snow, it could never possibly all disappear.
She held her hand up to her face and looked at her watch in the dim light. She had a few more hours before she needed to head to the airport. She had developed the pictures from her trip a few rolls at a time, stretching out the memories during those long weeks before she would see Richard again. Now that he was on his way to Miami, she was developing the last roll. She had every intention of taking another dozen rolls of film, this time all of him and her, and maybe even a few pictures that would never be shared with anybody—the kind of pictures she would keep in her bedside table for erotic inspiration.
She grinned and put up another picture. This one was of Richard looking directly into the camera, his eyes filled with such happiness that it made Rebecca stop and stare. She reached out and touched the picture, ran a fingertip delicately across his shadowed jaw, and stared at those eyes for a long moment. Then she turned back to the trays and brought another few prints to light. When she hung those up, her grin turned saucy. The vision of her lover’s dick filled the paper, and she licked her lips.
“I’ll have that in a few hours,” she said to the room.
She cleaned up in the darkroom, humming all the while. When she came out of the space the bright Miami sunlight was bursting through her windows, almost blinding her. She squinted and blinked as she walked to the closet and tried to decide what to wear. All he had seen her in were long sweaters and jeans, so now she chose a pretty sundress with criss-cross straps across the shoulder and a full skirt. She pulled her hair into an upsweep and put on bright red lipstick, the colour that brought out the pout of her lips and the smile in her eyes.
She stepped into sandals and grabbed a small purse on her way to the car. She stopped once to twirl in front of the mirror, casting a critical eye over her body.
In the car, her hands shook with anticipation as she turned the key.
Richard stared out of the window as the plane circled over Miami. He had travelled quite a bit but he had never seen Miami before, and now he stared out at the skyscrapers underneath him and the blue water in the distance. From up here, it looked like paradise. He knew there was a woman down there waiting for him who would make sure paradise was exactly what he got.
Phone sex was good, but it wasn’t the same as having her there in bed with him. He had masturbated more in the last few weeks than he ever had before in his life, and he was sure that trend would continue as long as they were in a long-distance relationship. They had begun mentioning the long-term future and what might come for them, and so far no decisions had been made, or even really discussed on a deep level. What they knew for certain was that, eventually, someone would have to move. Richard saw this trip to Miami not only as a visit to see Rebecca, but as an audition of the city that he might live in one day.
He buckled up when he was told to do so and watched out of the window as the plane began its descent. He always liked the way the world looked when the plane was landing, the buildings that were once little dots now big structures, the cars in the parking lot coming into focus, the signs and lights of businesses making themselves clear. He stared out of the window until the gentle bump, and then the lights of the runway were flashing past the windows, heralding their arrival.
It seemed to take forever to get off the plane. It had been so long since anyone had been there to meet him at the end of a long trip that he had almost forgotten how good it felt to look for that face in the terminal. He h
ad never experienced the thrill of a long-distance lover throwing herself into his arms when he arrived, but that was something he couldn’t wait to feel.
When she did spot him in the throng of passengers, she started to run. Dodging bags and strollers and weary travellers, she danced through the crowd in a beautiful yellow dress, her eyes pinned on him. He dropped his carry-on bag and opened his arms. When she threw herself into his embrace, passersby stopped for a moment to stare, smiling at the pretty young lady and the man who held her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
She was crying when they pulled apart, but she was smiling.
“I love you,” he whispered into her ear.
She laughed out loud and kissed him.
Waiting on the baggage claim was an excuse to hold hands and look at each other. He had never seen a woman so pretty, and he told her so. She blushed becomingly and Richard didn’t miss the interested glances of the men around them, or the envious smiles as they caught him watching. She shone like a bright star, standing out in a sea of people. Richard was proud to be with her.
As they walked to the car, she laced her arm with his and laid her head on his shoulder. The warmth of the Miami sun beat down on them, so different from the chilly days in Iowa. He lifted his face to it, soaking it up, and she watched him enjoy what she usually took for granted.
“Hard to believe it’s warm here,” he said. “I’m so used to the cold.”
“It’s warmer in my apartment,” she teased.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Show me.”
He watched as she drove through traffic, her hands confident on the wheel. She deftly steered between eighteen-wheelers and SUVs, speeding into the empty spaces and making headway in the bumper-to-bumper lineup. She shot into an exit, swerved around a slow-moving truck, and went under a light just before it turned red. Richard was both impressed and frightened.
“Are you this confident with everything?” he asked. She reached over, squeezed his knee, and shaved ten miles per hour off her speed.
“You big baby,” she teased.
“I’m used to driving behind tractors and combines,” he explained.
“Want to give it a shot here?”
“No way!”
She grinned and pushed down harder on the gas pedal.
In her apartment, Richard was the one in control. As soon as they walked into the front door he gave the room a cursory glance, then pinned her against the wall. His lips found her neck, his tongue tasting her skin, bringing to life the scent of the perfume she had sprayed there. When she put her arms around his shoulders, he took her wrists in his hands and held them against the wall behind her.
“I brought some toys,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Which ones?”
“The ones you really want.”
He kissed her hard, until they were both short of breath. He abruptly pulled her away from the wall. “Where’s the bedroom?”
Rebecca wasn’t offended that he hadn’t looked at the apartment. There would be time for that later, when the need in both of them was sated. She took his hand and walked through the tiny space to the bedroom, where the Miami sun streamed in through the windows. She was gratified by his look of surprise and awe as he stood in the beams of light and basked in the glow.
“Strip for me and get on the bed,” he ordered.
She had missed those words. Rebecca lifted the dress slowly over her head, revealing nothing but bare skin under the fabric, and turned to the bed, certain his eyes were on her the whole time. She listened to him feeling around in his carry-on bag, then listened to his low moan as he watched her move across the floor. Without being told, she got on her knees in the middle of the bed, arched her back and spread her legs.
Richard stared at the way she displayed her body for him, inviting him to take whatever he wanted. The weeks of separation fell away and she was still his Rebecca, the woman who had opened him up in such a sexual frenzy that he knew he would never be the same again.
“Do you remember what we talked about the night you left?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire as he looked at her.
She remembered very well. “Remind me.”
Richard stepped to the bed. He took a moment to look around the room, at the photographs on the walls and the old-fashioned dresser in the corner. The bed was huge, the centrepiece of the room, and for a moment he wondered what other men had been there, and what she had looked like while she fucked them. The thought made him curiously jealous and turned him on all at once.
He touched the small of her back with his fingertips. She jerked and lowered her head to the blanket. He watched her sway against his touch.
He pressed the dildo to her pussy.
Rebecca tensed, immediately aware of what he had in his hand but not quite ready to take it inside her. She held perfectly still as he twisted it against her, not entering her but making her think he might. He waited until she pushed back against it the slightest bit, then pulled it away.
He pressed the dildo to her ass.
Rebecca let out a low, animal sound. She swivelled her hips slowly, trying to get him to push it harder, but he pulled it away from there, too. She knelt on the bed, panting, waiting.
“You wanted more than one man,” he said, his tone accusing. “You wanted more than one dick in you. Remember that, Rebecca? How you wanted to be the fuck-toy centrepiece of a gangbang?”
Rebecca’s pussy melted with desire. She thrust her hips into the air, offering him any hole he wanted. He watched as she writhed on the bed, her whole body afire with the idea he had just put in her head. She wasn’t playing coy and he wasn’t about to deny how much it turned him on.
He pressed the dildo to her pussy and began to push.
Rebecca groaned as the dildo went all the way in without pause. Richard held it there, pressing it hard into her, well aware it was hitting bottom and might be hurting her. He twisted it and she hissed as the spirals of pain went through her, but she wasn’t about to move away. He played with her, sliding it in and out a few times before pushing it all the way in again. She cried out, once, the sound loud in the bedroom.
“Hold it there,” he ordered.
Rebecca reached under her body and pressed her hand to his. He made sure the dildo was where he wanted it, then slowly moved his hand away, leaving her in control. She immediately began to ride it. Richard’s eyes were riveted between her thighs as she fucked herself. He watched the dildo, now slick with her juices, as it slid out of her. He enjoyed the way her cunt swallowed it, as though it were hungry for the thick, hard toy.
He spread lube all over the vibrator as she rode the dildo.
She knew what was coming, and the thought of it turned her on more than she had thought it would. She had had her share of lovers, but never had she felt all her holes filled at one time, and that’s what she wanted more than anything. It might not be real, live male bodies, but it would be just as good—especially when she had Richard’s cock deep in one of those holes, pumping into her and driving them both to an orgasm on the strength of their shared fantasy.
“More than one man,” he mused, and pressed the vibrator to her ass.
She shuddered, her whole body primed and ready for what he was going to do to her. She was a little afraid of what it would feel like, and she didn’t think for a moment it wouldn’t hurt, but she thought the orgasm would be harder if there were a little hurt involved. No pain, no gain.
“Keep fucking him,” he told her, watching the dildo go in and out of her. “Make his dick happy, honey. Don’t let him come, though. He needs to wait until the other men are coming. Three hot loads of cum in your body all at once…don’t you want that, Rebecca?”
“Yes,” she murmured. “Yes.”
“Then hold still,” he said. “Hold still. This other man wants to ride up your back door, and you’re going to open your cheeks and invite him in, aren’t you?”
She n
odded and pressed her forehead to the bed below her. She looked between her legs. Richard’s pants were unzipped and his dick was in his hand. She kept fucking herself with the dildo and imagined a man on the bed behind her, his cock lubed and ready. She pictured Richard standing nearby while that man pressed hard against her ass and began to inch his way inside.
Richard was pushing the vibrator in a little at a time. He watched with rapt attention as her sphincter opened under the pressure. She whimpered and he pulled the vibrator back, but she protested loudly. “No! Don’t stop. Fuck me.”
Richard pushed the vibrator back in. He kept pushing as she opened, this time ignoring her small cries and whimpers. Sliding it in wasn’t nearly as easy as he thought it would be, and he knew that was because of the dildo filling her pussy. When the vibrator was in as far as it could go, Rebecca let out a long wail of satisfaction. Richard pushed it harder, just for good measure, and began to fuck her with it.
“They are both fucking you,” he said. “Both of them in you. One below, one on top, making you take it. Filling you with cock. And you know what?”
She didn’t hear him at first. She was too busy fucking the dildo, fucking the vibrator, feeling both hard fantasy men filling her. Richard had to repeat himself twice before she answered him.
“What?” she panted.
“You’re going to suck me off while those men fuck you.”
She was on the verge of an orgasm. She tried to hold back but the vibrator was fucking her ass without mercy, going as hard as he pleased, and she was being dragged to the edge of pleasure whether she liked it or not.
“He’s going to make me come!” she wailed, completely lost in the fantasy.
“You’re going to let another man make you come?” he asked her, his voice a mastery of mock surprise, his dick harder than ever in his hand. “You’re going to do that while your boyfriend watches?”
She couldn’t hold back anymore, and Richard knew it. Her hand trembled on the dildo and her knees started to give way. He reached under her, grabbed the dildo with his other hand, and pressed both toys deep into her body.
