by Alice Ward
When Auggie left for college, she discovered a freedom she couldn’t have imagined. Suddenly, there was no one watching over her shoulder; no one to force her to curfew or to dust the furniture on Saturdays. She was free to make her own decisions and willing to stand the punishment for her own mistakes. Her dad had always kept her well-financed, but still there were things like missed classes and hangovers she had to contend with on her own.
“I went a little wild at first, I’ll admit,” she confided. “I suppose I was like a kid in a candy store. There were parties everywhere day and night. I tried drinking, I tried pot and a little wanton sex.” She took a sip of her wine. The moon shone off her hair and the light from the candles put shadows on the lower part of her face. She looked more like a gentle Madonna than a party girl. She was so beautiful I wanted to close my eyes and trap that image in my brain forever.
“We all do that, honey,” I told her, giving her absolution and a feeling of inclusion at the same time.
“I wasn’t really that bad of a girl, but compared to living in Mother’s house, it felt like it,” she said, picking up the wine bottle and refilling her glass and mine.
“Did I ever tell you I was Peter Pan?” she asked, laughing at the memory.
“No, I think you left that part out.”
“Well, I was. And not such a bad one, if I say so myself,” she shared. “I remember I had to dress in green tights and tunic and a hat with a feather on my head. They had me bound up in some kind of rigging from the rafters over the stage. They’d lower me and a boom would sort of swing me from one side to the other — like I was flying. At first, I thought it was really cool and looked forward to it. But then, opening night, my stomach was really nervous and upset. I didn’t want to go through with it and begged my understudy to take the role. It was a guy and I think he was even more scared than I was. He refused. So, I had no choice. Mother and Dad were in the audience and they’d brought a few of their friends with them. Their daughter, the star — you get it?”
I nodded and smiled, watching a candle’s flame as I listened to her voice, husky with the weight of memories.
She continued, “I climbed up into the overhead rigging and they strapped me in. They lowered the straps and then moved the boom to swing me across the stage like I’d just flown in through the bedroom window. I made it halfway across the stage and the straps against my stomach were too much. I puked. And when I say puked, I mean it. It literally sprayed down onto the stage and onto the backs of two other performers. Naturally, that made them lose it, too — they were just as nervous as I was. So, there we were, opening night, my debut as an actress, Mother with her friends she wanted to impress and the entire stage covered with vomit. I think I took out a few people in the first rows as well. What a disaster. Mother stood and dragged Dad with her. Her face was so pale and I thought she’d be yet another victim.”
I laughed so hard I blew the candle flame out. Auggie seemed quite proud of herself and I realized then how much fun she could be. I traded stories.
“Father came to school just once — for my graduation. I think he thought I might be lying about being there and wanted proof. Anyway, I knew he was coming and decided I wouldn’t walk with the class, but didn’t tell him. I waited and watched for him and when he finally showed up and took a seat, I took one two rows behind him. When it came time for my name to be called, they skipped me and went to the next person. He instantly recognized the gap.”
Auggie’s eyes were wide. “What did you do?”
Giving her a good squeeze, I laughed. “I stood and screamed, clapped and cheered. When he whipped around and saw me sitting in regular clothes in the audience, I thought he would burst a blood vessel. All he could think of was that he’d just paid for all that education — med school and all the other little doctorates — and I’d never gone to a single class, but had probably partied the entire time.”
“Oh, Worth, you’re awful! Mine was unintentional, but what you did was deliberate. Don’t you ever get tired of manipulating people?” she asked, not laughing the way I’d hoped she would.
Time to change the subject. “Not when it comes to manipulating parts of you!” I said and pulled her onto my lap. I kissed her forehead, petting her hair which was as rich as a pelt.
“Seriously, Worth, have you always been such a manipulator?” She looked up and those gorgeous green eyes swallowed me whole.
“My whole life. It’s who I am, honey. I calculate the odds and if I don’t like them, I change them. You know, in many circles that’s considered a talent.”
She stiffened and pulled away, her eyes still glued to mine. “Not in my circle. Why do you suppose Ford is who he’s turning out to be?”
“Don’t go there, Auggie. Ford may have a few rough edges that school will straighten out in him, but overall, he’s a great kid.”
Her entire body softened as she leaned against me again. “I know. I love him too.”
“Would you like to have another baby, Auggie?”
“Oh, Worth, I’ve thought about that. Especially the last few days when Ford was getting ready to go. I guess if it happens, I’m fine with it, but if it doesn’t, I can be fine with that too.”
That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear. I wanted to have several children with Auggie. I’d spent a good part of my life carrying the heir mantle and it was far too heavy for one person. Better that it’s shared.
To that end, I slid my hand down her blouse and caressed her breasts. She twisted on my lap and leaned upward to kiss my chin. She laid against me like that for a long time; as a child would lie in a parent’s lap. I sensed that she was troubled, needed reassurance, and wanted to rebuild a sense of trust with me. I knew I hadn’t always kept my promises to her, that I’d left her alone much of the time. I knew that I could be a bit selfish with my time — the curse of anyone who is very dedicated to their work. She was very understanding about it, but that didn’t help when the other half of the bed was nothing but cold, crisp sheets. She didn’t realize that when I was away on business, I missed her just as much, if not more than she missed me. She had Ford and the house and all the familiar trappings of her life. I had only myself.
That’s when I realized she would no longer have Ford or Carlos. She would be alone. “Auggie?”
“Hmmm…”
“Would you like to travel with me when I go on business trips?” I asked, thinking it would give her some purpose.
“Not really,” she answered slowly. “Someone has to stay nearby in case Ford needs something and then there’s the farm to run. I’m really more comfortable in familiar surroundings.”
I understood and actually expected her reply to be close to that. She was an original, Auggie was. She wasn’t impressed by titles, money, power or possessions. She was only looking to be content and left to her independence. That’s the least I could give her. She would find something on her own that would interest her, I knew it in my heart.
I picked her up and carried her to the doorway to the cabin. I set her down and patted her butt. “Go down there and get into bed. I have to check on a couple of things and will be down shortly.” She nodded and started down the steps.
I made sure the anchor was secure and that the keel was locked into position. It was too shallow where we were anchored to lower it. The safety lights were on so any other vessel that came across us in the night would see us. The gauges were all spot on and everything was tidy and secure before I went below deck.
Auggie was waiting for me in the stateroom, ensconced in the bed and I could tell she was freshly showered. I crawled into her space as though joining her in a pod. I couldn’t get enough of her scent, her breath, the softness of her skin. I wanted to carry her inside me wherever I went.
She folded her arms around my neck and one hand began to stroke my cock. It was a matter of moments before I was hard, but I wanted to take my time with her. She was so vulnerable, lonely and a little afraid. I treated her as I’d seen her do
many times with colts. I petted her arms, careful not to invade her feminine space too quickly. She kissed me and while I kissed her back, I held off any overt advances until she was relaxed in my arms. I’d brought some oil; essence of lavender and put a few drops in my hands. I began to massage the backs of her calves, a place where she was well-muscled from riding. She groaned at the pleasurable feeling and I extended it to her feet, careful not to tickle her. I knelt between her legs and she let me lift each foot in turn, massaging the rich oils into her soles and between her toes. I looked up and saw that she was lying with her eyes closed, her head flung slightly back. Her thick, luxurious hair was spread over her like a coverlet and her nipples rose between the strands, pink and begging to be kissed.
Despite the throbbing of my penis, I held back and continued massaging up her inner thighs, a finger gently, but not deeply, delving into her from time to time. The intrusion, however welcomed, was unexpected and her nerve endings were on alert, making each thrust a delightful surprise.
My broad hands spread out upon her hips, their flare perfectly fitting into my flattened palms. More oil here and I pushed my hands around until her ass was cradled in them. Gently, I pulled apart the cheeks of her ass and gently followed that with a fingertip of oil, massaging gently into that tender skin. In response, she wriggled upon my finger, setting my cock afire with the need to feel her upon me in the same way.
Eventually, my mouth found those rosy nipples, pushing aside the thick hair with the tip of my nose and nuzzling her breasts. One hand continued to massage the inside of her thighs and although she spread her legs, I didn’t yet enter her. My hand carressed each breast, my fingers gently tweaking her nipples in a soothing rhythm.
Only when I felt her body completely relax did I unleash the storm of my passion upon her. She caught her breath as I penetrated her, driving hard into her depths. She instinctively rose to meet me and the effect was perhaps the most complete immersion into her body as was possible. Her feet wrapped around my back and my hands lifted her ass as I pumped into her. I wanted to drive out all the uncertainty, the grieving, and the pain. I wanted to possess her completely and for her to never doubt that she belonged to me.
The process had been excruciatingly slow and now I began to reward myself for the endurance. I ground my hips into her, rotating a bit with each thrust so as to slide along yet another wall of her woman’s cave. I could feel the explosion of her juices around me and as much as I wanted to do so in kind, I held back, continuing to pump into her.
I lifted her back, folding her against me so that her breasts slammed into my chest as her mound swallowed my balls. I just couldn’t seem to get close enough, warm enough, intimate enough for it to ever become enough.
In one smooth motion, I flipped her onto her tummy and hiked up her hips, pushing her legs apart so I could mount her like a sire. This was language she understood and instinctively responded to. She held very still, not wanting me to fall back and away from her. Over and over, I pumped her as quickly as I could. There was a ferocity building where the tenderness had once lived. I was claiming her. I would fill her and she would carry my seed within her; its heat and virility a message of love from my loins to her hot cave. She raised up and her hair slid over me, it’s silky texture inflamed me further until I could hold it back no longer. I exploded, within her and atop her; her bottom arching backward to revel in it and to keep the heat of my cock inside her. I found I could not move out of her and like two dogs, we were locked into that position until the pressure subsided and I was flaccid enough to pull out.
I collapsed to her side and she looked at me, her eyelids heavy with passion, her face rosy from the friction. I think we acknowledged silently that we’d never made love like that before. It felt more like a fusing of sword shaft to handle. Apart we were useless. Welded, we could not be vanquished.
I wrapped her in my arms and pulled a coverlet over us against the damp of the night. We slept.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Worth
I awoke early to the sound of the rigging clanging against the mast. I knew the wind had risen and gently woke Auggie and whispered, “Wind’s rising, let’s sail.” She nodded, although I think she would have gladly smothered me with a pillow.
I went topside, and indeed, the trees were swaying. The barometer was dropping and that meant heavy weather would be coming in, but, for now, it meant phenomenal sailing winds on a lake that was land-locked by steep hills and rarely saw these sustained, powerful breezes.
I partially ran up the mainsail, enough to catch the breeze and let it guide us out of the cove. I cranked up the anchor and we shot forward. I heard a curse from below and smiled. Evidently, Auggie had yet to recognize that this was a sailboat and not a rowboat.
She eventually appeared on deck, balancing a tray with two cups of coffee and two small bowls of scrambled eggs with shredded cheddar cheese peppered on top. “I thought bowls might be safer,” she said wryly in reference to the toppled plate lying broken below.
“A little trouble this morning?” I teased her.
“I would have been just fine if I’d had a little more sleep,” she grumbled playfully.
“Okay, sleepyhead. Message received. Eat your breakfast and then get to the back and take the wheel while I eat mine. The wind is rising nicely in advance of a storm and we want to take advantage of it.” She nodded and wolfed down her eggs and coffee. She scampered to the wheel and looked really excited to take her post. I laughed and snapped a picture of her; her hair blowing in the wind, her white shorts with a nautical navy and white striped cropped shirt fitting the setting perfectly. I wanted to take her then and there, but that would wait for later.
I showed her how to lean hard on the wheel so we could take advantage of the wind and move out of the cove. At one point, we were in deep enough water and I told her to put the keel down so we could come about. She looked at me, puzzled.
“To come about means that you have to steer so the wind is at your back, to fill the sails. Sometimes, especially in close quarters, you have to do what’s called tacking. That means you gain a little going in one direction and then come about and gain a bit more in a forty-five-degree angle from the first direction. Eventually, you can maneuver where the wind is fully at your back. On days like today, when the wind is due to a front, it can be wild and change direction without warning. You just have to be ready.”
I excused myself and went below to use the head and heard her screaming. I came bounding up and she had us heading directly into shore. I caught the wheel and turned it, showing her how to duck so we could come about. She was terrified, and I was sorry I’d left her without enough instruction to feel comfortable.
There was a flash and I looked to the west. The storm, it seemed, was much closer than I’d anticipated. Our view had been obscured by the large hills, and it was not a gradual darkening, but a sunshine to black wall transition. We were well into the lake at this point and I hurriedly looked for a cove where we could shelter until it passed. Auggie was at the wheel and I leapt forward to lower the sail.
The wind hit like a huge hand had slapped us aside. It caught the sail that was still open and the boat tipped to one side, almost lying flat on the water. I realized then that Auggie had not lowered the keel; there was no counterbalance to the wind-filled sail. I turned to tell her to do it and there was no one behind me. The wheel was spinning freely and I dropped everything to run and see where she’d gone overboard. The next blast of wind caught and the untended wheel spun, allowing the boom to swing freely, catching me in the back of the head.
*
I was dreaming of being in the shower with Auggie and how we’d made love again, just after having crawled from our bed. I had a headache and struggled to remember where I’d been the night before so I could guess how long this hangover would last.
It wasn’t a dream, though, and my head hurt because I’d been caught by the swinging boom. It all came back to me as the boat listed again i
n the storm. The rain was so dense I couldn’t see the shore and I began screaming Auggie’s name.
I pulled myself to my feet and ran from side to side, stern to bow and saw nothing. Only the rain thrashed the water’s surface; no pale arms, no glorious mantle of hair, no Auggie. I screamed over the wind, only to have my words carried away in the shriek of the Valkyries who had brought the wind down upon us.
Desperately, I jumped below, but there was nothing but a riot of broken dishes and belongings tossed about. Auggie was nowhere to be found.
I lowered the keel and completely dropped the sail, then started the motor. In a flash of horror, I turned it back off, afraid she might be caught in the blades. I couldn’t steer without headway so I grabbed a life ring and jumped into the churning water around the motor to see if she was about. I saw nothing. I hefted myself back aboard and started the motor, trying desperately to find the location on shore I’d previously fixed my sight upon as refuge. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious or how far the boat might have drifted.
My heart was screaming and salty tears added to the rain drenching my face. “Auggie! Auggie!” I grabbed the radio mic and called in an SOS but this wasn’t the ocean. The only help might be a small outboard patrolled by the Fish and Game Department to catch those without a fishing license. Hopefully, I could find her before they became my best chance.
I shielded my eyes and looked in every direction. Auggie could swim, but I had no way of knowing if she’d been knocked unconscious when the boat listed and she’d gone over. I finally recognized the intended point of focus on the shore through the sheets of blowing rain and headed in roughly that direction so I could circle about and hopefully find my original position.
