Housekeeping

by Summer Cooper

  They took their time as they made their way down to the crossing of the main road. Today it was peaceful and they were soon on the other side and riding down the quiet lanes again. Ben took them on a detour and Mary was quick to point out they’d gone the wrong way.

  “Nope, we’re going somewhere different today. That’s why we brought a picnic. A prettier beach near the nature reserve but not so many people. You’ll love it, trust me,” Ben said, allaying Mary’s worry about getting lost. He knew she’d done enough of that lately.

  Not much further they came to a small bar and restaurant. Outside sat a few locals enjoying an early beer and in a field beside the bar, more locals enjoying a game of boule. They cycled past, returning the waves of the boule players and then on to a narrow winding, sandy, rock strewn track that headed towards the sea.

  “That looked a nice place, have you been before?” Mary asked as they cycled on.

  “They do great chicken. We’ll call in on the way home,” Ben replied as he directed them down a still narrower path that led onto the beach.

  Mary gasped as she looked around. The sea was clear as crystal and not too far out the waves were breaking on a sandbar leaving the waters close in calm and perfect for paddling. Rather than the hustle and bustle of the beach before, this one had only the nature reserve around it and flocks of flamingos gathered in some of the pools that were formed to collect salt.

  “Oh, Ben, this is paradise. How come there are so few people?” Mary asked.

  “People seem to like to have everything to hand these days, even in paradise. That and it means parking the car way back at that bar we rode past. Some folk can’t walk a few feet without getting out of breath. We get the place more or less to ourselves,” Ben answered.

  A few sun umbrellas dotted the beach. Beach blankets and towels were spread here and there but Ben was right. Only those determined enough would make the effort to come here.

  Ben spread out a large beach blanket and unfurled the beach umbrella before he gestured Mary to it.

  “Here you don’t need to feel too self-conscious, right?”

  He didn’t need to say anything. Mary had already stripped down to her bikini bottoms and was staring at him with a bottle of sun tan oil in her hand.

  “Well? You don’t want me to burn them do you? Best get some of this on me,” she teased, jiggling her breasts at him with a laugh. Gone was that pure, shy girl from the mountains, in her place a woman that knew what she wanted.

  As Mary stretched out on the blanket, Ben worked oil into her body, enjoying every moment as he caressed and stroked her. She was without a doubt, beautiful, and he never wanted the moment to end.

  There were people around them, but that didn’t stop him from blocking her from their view as he stroked her. She looked up at him, totally innocent, but full of desire. She was sexy; a mix of pure and sultry that was appealing in a way he’d never experienced before.

  His fingers brushed over her nipples, causing Mary to moan his name. He looked down at her, propped up on his elbow, and couldn’t resist kissing her. Their lips came together, an exploration at first, before passion kicked in and they forgot they weren’t alone.

  Ben’s fingers found her oil-slicked nipples again, teasing her until her hips came up from the blanket they were resting on.

  “Ben, oh baby, don’t stop.” Her pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears and he slid a hand down her slick stomach, down to her bikini bottoms.

  She broke away from his kiss as his fingers found her damp heat, and the one place that would give her relief. Her fingers dug into the sand as his lips closed around a tight nipple.

  Music came to him from across the sand, and he glanced up to see the other couple had repositioned their umbrella, their legs entwined. They weren’t the only ones letting the sun and heat impact them.

  Ben smiled to himself, pleased at the whole situation, but more pleased with Mary, her hips moving in rhythm with his hand as he stroked her clit. She was so responsive, so easy to please, to stoke into a flame.

  He watched the sun play over her skin, so beautiful and silky, and he inhaled her scent, wanting nothing more than to bury himself deep inside of her. Later, he promised himself, later when they were alone and he had her to himself.

  For now he contented himself with grinding into her hip as she moved beneath him, her body now quivering, small tight gasps breaking from her throat as her stomach rippled with the pleasure she was experiencing.

  “Ben, fuck, Ben.” Her fingers splayed in the sand before clenching again as he heard her stop breathing, her head going back as the ultimate pleasure tore through her.

  “That’s it baby, come for me. Let me see it. Fuck, you’re beautiful, Mary. That’s it baby, come on my fingers.” He stroked the throbbing organ between her nether lips, waiting for her body to relax but she kept gasping, writhing.

  Ben let her ride it out, his tongue laving at her nipple until her back arched and collapsed against the sand and she lay there, breathing heavily.

  “Just rest now, baby. Let that play over you.” He fell beside her, wondering how the fuck he was going to ride home with a hard on.

  Lillian had smiled to herself as she watched Mary and Ben ride away. This, she had decided, was exactly what Mary needed, and having heard Ben’s sad story, it was what he needed to. Mary was a good and kind girl. Not wealthy and not as well travelled as Ben, but good and kind.

  Today, Lilian would have her own adventure. A bicycle ride to town alone. She would order a coffee and hopefully some food and do it on her own. She was confident that somehow she would communicate to these fine Portuguese people.

  Lillian set off down the lane on her bicycle, nervous to be doing it on her own but full of excitement. She took her time and eventually came to the busy crossing. Waiting for a gap she hurried across onto the quiet lane on the other side. She’d done it. The hardest part of the trip, she thought. With that under her belt, ordering coffee would be a breeze.

  She cycled into the little fishing village and not too far from the plaza she parked up her bike and locked it to a street light. Looking around, she realised she was spoiled for choice as there were so many cafes and bars to choose from. Over in a corner of the square she saw a couple about her age, sat drinking coffee and gossiping. Beside them was an empty table. Perfect, she thought. She won’t look too alone sat next to other people and they might even make conversation. Lillian knew a lot of the locals spoke English. She hurried over and sat down before anyone else could grab the table.

  She picked up the menu and looked at the couple at the table next to her. She smiled and nodded and said “Ola!” and went back to studying the menu.

  The two people beside her smiled back she noticed. “They obviously think I’m a local,” she thought. The man, she noted, was large. Very large and already sweating in the early sunshine. He wore a straw hat he’d obviously bought from one of the shops on the sea front and a thin striped cotton, short-sleeved shirt. He had the regulation khaki shorts and sandals. He was constantly removing his hat to wipe his head and brow with a handkerchief. The woman with him, Lillian assumed must be his wife, was a petite lady in a floral light summer dress. She too was sporting a floppy straw hat and sunglasses but looked significantly happier to be in the warm sunshine.

  “You wipe that brow one more time, Chuck, and you won’t have no damn brow left to wipe,” the woman said, nudging the man beside her and smiling at Lillian.

  “Sorry, Edna. Just feeling it a bit today is all,” the man replied with a tired voice.

  Lillian’s head shot up and she turned again to look at the couple.

  “Pardon me, but are you people from America?” Lillian asked with hope. It would be so nice to hear other American voices!

  “We are indeed ma’am. Richmond, Virginia. And where might you be from? I’m guessing not too far away by the accent?” the man said.

  “I’m from a little town in West Virginia. You won’t have heard of it. A coal town
called Berwind,” Lillian replied smiling happily. Real, honest to God, Americans!

  “Yep, that sure is coal country there,” the woman added, nodding along with her husband.

  “Chuck Vogelsang. This is my wife Edna. And who might you be and how in the heck did you end up here? If I might ask, of course,” Chuck said extending his hand to Lillian.

  “Lillian Montgomery. A pleasure to meet you, Chuck, and a pleasure to meet you too, Edna,” Lillian said. “I’m here with my daughter for a vacation. It was supposed to have been her honeymoon trip but things didn’t go as planned. So here we are. Four thousand miles away and sitting next to a couple I could drive to back home,” she laughed.

  Edna and Chuck laughed too. “Yup, sure is a long ways to be going to meet your neighbours, that’s a fact Lillian,” Chuck said.

  The waitress had been stood patiently waiting at Lillians’s table not wanting to interrupt the introductions but now she coughed and said politely, “Could I get you something?”

  “A coffee please. Thank you,” Lillian replied with a smile for the woman.

  The waitress disappeared back into the café leaving the three of them to drop back into their conversation.

  “Well I thought that might be a bit more complicated,” Lillian said, nodding towards the café door.

  “What would be?” Edna asked.

  “Ordering something to drink,” Lillian said, laughing. “They do all speak very good English though. Do you speak Portuguese?”

  “Well, sort of. I use a Portuguese accent and then speak slowly and loudly in English. I usually get what I want,” Chuck said, laughing as he slapped his own thigh, receiving a glare from Edna.

  “You talk far too loud, Chuck. Doesn’t matter what language you do it in,” Edna scolded, before cracking a smile to show she was teasing.

  The coffee arrived and the three of them fell into a long conversation as if they’d known each other for years. Chuck and Edna had been coming to the Algarve on and off for quite a few years and when they weren’t here they were somewhere equally as exotic. But they loved to travel. They told Lillian tales of the wonderful places they’d seen, and gave her a full run down of what she must see and do whilst in the Algarve. Lillian was impressed, but they too were impressed with her own tales of life in the mountains of West Virginia and how brave she and Mary had been to make the trip.

  Edna insisted Lillian accompany them on a stroll through the town and they took her to a little place they knew for lunch. All day they talked. Lillian was so happy to hear a familiar accent. They hadn’t been there long but already Lillian was missing her husband, and other familiar things. To hear Chuck and Edna talking was as homely as listening to the mountain creek falling over the rocks.

  Lillian insisted Edna and Chuck would visit them that evening for dinner with Ben and Mary. It was a bit of an impromptu invite, but not as impromptu as the invite to Spain they extended to Lillian.

  Edna and Chuck had planned a trip to Seville in the morning and asked if Lillian would like to join them. Mary too, of course. Lillian thought on it and decided that this would of course be a perfect chance for Ben and Mary to have the day to themselves again, assuming the morning had gone well for them. She hoped it had.

  Mary was sat in the garden when Lillian arrived home. She had declined a ride with the Vogelsangs to make sure her bicycle got home in one piece. Chuck had offered to drive her and the bicycle, but Mary had visions of the constantly sweating man having a heart attack loading it into the car.

  “Mom! You’re back. We were beginning to worry. Ben suggested you might have ended up in Spain again,” Mary exclaimed as Lillian came in through the gate.

  “No dear, that’s tomorrow,” Lillian said, laughing. “Tonight we need to get a bit organised. We have company coming.”

  “Company?” Mary repeated, looking suitably confused. “What sort of company?”

  “American company, dear. A delightful couple I met today. They’re coming for dinner. I hope Ben will be able to lend us a hand. I promised some of that chicken he makes so well, and of course his mojitos!”

  “Oh Mom! How could you without asking Ben first?” Mary asked, frowning but turning it quickly into a grin. “I’ll go and let him know. I’m sure he’ll be happy to.”

  Ben was more than happy to help. He’d had a mind-blowing time at the beach with Mary and couldn’t be happier. He was beaming when he arrived to start the charcoal grill and had prepared a good supply of mojito mix in the fridge.

  The Vogelsangs were on time. Not an easy task as the house was not the easiest place to find, but Ben had offered to stand guard on the lane and look out for them, waving at the first confused couple he’d seen coming up the road. Fortunately, they turned out to be the Vogelsangs.

  They sat and talked and laughed late into the evening. Ben took an instant liking to Chuck. He was big and loud but totally sincere and genuine and, more importantly, good fun. They shared stories and drank more mojito’s and wine.

  The plan of the trip to Seville was broached and Lillian suggested quite obviously that she would go and Mary could enjoy the day with Ben. Ben was somewhat taken aback at how this seemed almost planned by Lillian but was happy to go along with it. He wasn’t getting roped in to a trip to Spain. And another day alone with Mary was his idea of a good day.

  The Vogelsangs eventually decided if they were ever going to get anywhere tomorrow they’d better leave and get some sort of sleep. They would be round to pick Lillian up in the morning.

  After the Vogelsangs had departed with a lot of back slapping and goodbyes, Mary, Lillian and Ben also took to their beds. Ben had to do some work in the morning but the rest of the day he’d spend with Mary. And after such an arousing day at the beach, he hoped to find out more about the sweetly seductive Mary.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Vogelsangs, punctual as ever, parked outside at nine o’clock on the dot. Lillian was up and ready and hurried out to meet them, waving a cheery goodbye to Mary who had come to see them off, still wearing her pyjamas.

  Chuck, still wearing his straw hat even as he drove, pulled the car down the lane and soon they’d disappeared around the bend on their way to Spain.

  Mary made her way back into the barn and sat with a mug of coffee, contemplating her own day. Hopefully the exploration of yesterday would go much further. She’d decided to take what was offered and not push for more. She wanted Ben, and she’d take what she could get from him.

  Today, as Ben was working, she decided on sunbathing out on the patio with some music and chilled drinks. She still had to get used to the cola they sell in Portugal. It would do but it wasn’t the stuff she was used to, made with real sugar and much different from the cola at home.

  Ben had made his way downstairs and out into his courtyard. With a mug of tea in his hand and two slices of buttered toast on a plate beside him, he stared blankly at his laptop. Today, he wanted to write a long and scouring review of a visit to the local hospital he’d suffered a few weeks ago. He wasn’t dying, fortunately, but he was concerned at the lack of facilities for sick people in the area. He couldn’t always write about the good stuff; the stuff dream holidays are made of. There were problems here too, and as a travel writer it was his job to point them out to potential visitors. So he sat and stared. He also knew Mary was home alone. Right next door. Alone. Staring was about as much as he was going to get out of his brain at the moment, so he stood up and went to the gate. He called out her name softly, not wanting to frighten her if she was busy.

  Mary heard Ben calling and lifted herself from the couch in the living room and made her way to the glass sliding doors.

  “Hi!” she called back. “Mom’s off already, how’s your morning going?”

  “Well, slowly. Got a bit of writers block just now but I’ll get it done eventually. I’m just glad to see you again. Thought it might spur me into getting to work quicker,” Ben replied making his way over to Mary.

  “Well sit a
while and finish your coffee. Then you can go and get your work done and spend the rest of the day with me. Chuck said not to expect them back until late this evening. So it looks like we have to take care of each other today,” Mary replied sitting down beside him.

  “She’ll have fun with them. Seville is a fantastic place to visit. This is tea by the way. I am English, you know,” Ben said, chuckling.

  “Ah, of course, the famous English tea. How would you all survive without it?” Mary giggled back.

  “We wouldn’t,” Ben acknowledged. “Britain would collapse into the channel without tea.”

  They sat in silence drinking until Ben stood up.

  “Okay, back to work,” he said awkwardly, perhaps hoping for a prompt from Mary. Mary remained seated and smiled at him. She could see he was waiting for some sign of encouragement but was enjoying his nervousness. It made him look vulnerable and human. Not the solid, well spoken, without a care, ex-military chap he usually came across as.

  “Okay.” She smiled, a promise lingering in the corners. “You go get finished and come on back. I won’t bother you ‘til your done, honey, but I’ll be waiting right here when you’re ready.”

  Ben was smiling as he made his way back to his courtyard and laptop. With a fresh mug of tea in hand, he crashed into his blog with enthusiasm. The sooner this was done the sooner he would be back with Mary, and he would be able to spend the whole day with her without worrying about work. As he typed he hummed to himself. “Laying in the arms of Mary.” He smiled again. Not heard that song in forever, he thought to himself.

  Lillian was having the time of her life. She’d thought Spain was another country a good many miles away and until the accidental train trip made her realise they were almost at the border. Now as they crossed into Spain heading for Seville she was loving every minute of it. As they drove into town she marvelled at the tall buildings and heavy traffic.

  “Can get like New York here if you happen to end up downtown at the wrong time,” Chuck noted as he changed lanes to the honking of cars behind him. “Best way to drive here is to relax and just go with it and follow a local. They usually know where they’re going. I sure don’t.” He laughed.