Wild Knights

by Blaise Kilgallen

  "Let's go to bed," he said, steering Carla toward the elevators.

  She recalled he said "bed," not "sleep." But Evan flipped on the TV when they got to their room. He stretched out on the cushy couch, his curly head resting on a pile of throw pillows.

  Carla went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and remove her make-up. She had brought nightwear. She had never in her life, outside of a few months of married life, worn a nightgown to bed. It was pajamas or nothing. Tonight, it was pj's.

  She slid into the king-size bed and waited. But Evan was engrossed by something on the boob tube. Carla felt relaxed after two hectic bouts of sex with Evan, and she sucked in a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

  "'Night, Evan."

  It took less than ten minutes for her to fall into relaxed slumber.

  Having slept alone for all those years, when Carla felt the mattress dip, it took her a moment to realize that Evan had come to bed. She had no idea what time it was, but she didn't move or make a sound. To tell the truth, she just wanted to go back to sleep. She'd had enough sex for one day. Evan must have felt the same way, because he didn't touch her until the next morning when he woke up, randy and ready.

  * * * *

  "Hey, you," Carla said, about to turn over and face him. "What are you doing?"

  "Don't you know?" When she attempted to turn, he grabbed her and kept her from moving.

  "I'm waiting for you to wake up. No, don't look at me. Stay the way you are."

  He crept closer, nuzzling her nape with what felt to her, an affectionate kiss. Then he ran his tongue over a shoulder blade, licking along the bone. His lips were warm, and he dragged them over her skin like a big puppy, making a wet path. Then he kissed along her spine. The muscles next to her backbone twitched in response. Delicious shivers coursed through her.

  "Hmm, that's nice, Evan," she murmured, still sleepy. She wiggled her backside as she lay on her side, until she felt the steely prod between her buttocks. That must have been what had awakened her. She realized suddenly that at some point during the night, her pj's had been removed. She was completely naked.

  "I thought you'd like to sleep naked like me, Carla. Lift your leg," he said. When she did, he pushed forward, searching for the opening to her cunt. He inserted the blunt tip of his sex a short way inside her. His muscled chest and torso plastered against her back. He pulled her harder against him, manipulating her breasts with his big palms. "Play time, Carla," he whispered, fooling with her nipples. He ran his wet tongue around the edge of her ear.

  Oh God! How can this be? I want him--again.

  She shifted, finding a more comfortable position and backed into him.

  Evan was ready to spend the entire day making love to her in bed, on the couch, on the carpet, in the shower, or anyplace else he could fine a private spot. A hundred erotic scenarios flashed in front of his mind's eye. Carla was the best lay he'd had in years. He cupped the firm flesh between his fingers and kneaded the soft mounds.

  A tiny sound of pleasure escaped her.

  "Give me a few more minutes, and you'll agree to anything I ask you to do, won't you?" His voice lowered into a sexy rumble.

  "What makes you think I'm not there already?" she retorted, wanting to fondle him and his sex as well. She arched shamelessly into his hands, her heart beating hard and fast as the familiar sensations started to edge closer to her inner core.

  "Oh yeah, sugar."

  There was so much more Evan wanted to do to her, but the need to be inside her obliterated everything else this morning. He gripped her thighs and pulled her toward him while thrusting his hips. His cock glided through the slick folds of female flesh and found its home deep, deep inside her body. This time he had remembered to sheath himself.

  Carla held herself open. She released a breathless cry of delight as he filled her completely.

  Groaning roughly, he buried his nose and lips against the delightful feminine curve of her back, and grazed his top teeth along her nape. He let her set the rhythm as she pushed against him, thankful how beautifully she accepted him. He whispered words of encouragement, then more explicit demands, ready to complete the full enjoyment of their morning interlude. He tweaked her nipples and used a finger to tease her cleft with its fluid-drenched labia.

  Carla exploded for him in a wild series of violent shivers that wracked her body when she let go. She praised what he did to her. "God, it's never been so good! Don't stop! Oh God, Ev--an! Arrgh!"

  He pounded into her, his long cock reaching for heaven. His passion was volatile and out of control, he bit her neck, leaving red marks, like a stallion in the throes of breeding a mare. When his release came, he yelled almost as loud as she, his climax ripping through him, hotter than fire, in a powerful series of wild and untamed spurts of semen.

  Carla lay in a heap against him. Finally calm, she sighed audibly and closed her eyes.

  "Did they used to call you the Italian Stallion when you were a kid?" she asked in a low tone.

  "Nope. They called me 'The Body' when I was wrestling."

  "I can see why. You're beautiful, Evan, your body is gorgeous. I could look at you naked all day long. And love you all night long."

  Evan had his eyes shut. Opening them, he withdrew from Carla's body and swept a thankful pat or two down her back. He rolled over onto his back, savoring his own towering release and her grateful admission of satisfaction.

  "We're doing a pretty good job of getting it on this weekend, right?" Then he laughed. "Lady, you're gonna kill me if you keep it up," he muttered under his breath.

  The woman is a man-eater. Thank you, God.

  "I've known a lot of women, older women and young ones, but you outdo all of them, Carla. Dammit, I hope to hell I can keep up with you." He was totally satiated and downright exhausted. Again. And it was only 8:00 a.m. "Just let me eat breakfast. Maybe we'll do it again later," he chortled. "That is, if I'm still alive."

  His laugh was music to her ears. Carla turned to face him, ran a finger down his bristly cheek and gave him a wicked smile. She reveled in the power of her womanly wiles over him. His lust appeared unsated

  * * * *

  They screwed once more before leaving the hotel, then headed back to Bergen County. Evan kept the Caddy's top closed. Carla was sleepy. She leaned her head against the leather seat and her eyelids drooped. He pulled her close. She smiled over at him languidly, but kept quiet. She had worn short shorts for the trip north. Her long legs stretched out in front of her. She had toed her sandals off and her feet were bare.

  They had turned onto the Garden State Parkway when Evan began caressing the sensitive inside of a bare thigh. She glanced at him from beneath her lashes, but his eyes were glued to the road. Nevertheless, he didn't stop caressing her. She slid nearer and opened her legs a bit, arching her mound higher, allowing him to touch her. His blunt fingers moved closer and closer to her cunt.

  It was all so pleasurable.

  He looked down at her with a wolfish smile and winked. "Do you still want more, you sexy glutton? Okay. Hang in there. Then you can snooze until we get home."

  We? Home? Those two words sound so ... inviting.

  With her mound jammed against his fingers, he shoved a fingertip inside her. It was awkward, but he wiggled it as much as he could to bring her to another climax. Within seconds she was on fire, her vaginal muscles twitching in rhythm with his moves. She yelped in pleasure.

  As Evan approached a toll plaza, he yanked his finger out of her hot tunnel and patted her thigh. "Better stop. There's too much traffic. Lay back and go to sleep. I'll wake you." He wiped a finger on his jeans and reached over to turn on the radio. Putting both hands on the wheel, he started to whistle with the music.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Evan carried her luggage into the house. They spoke briefly, he kissed her with a brotherly peck on the cheek, and left. Carla took a quick shower, fell into bed, and slept like a log all night.

  Will the girls know I've been fuckin
g all weekend?

  The next morning at the Spa, she arranged her features as if nothing exciting had happened to her over the weekend. The girls didn't seem to notice.

  She tapped on Mrs. Pembrooke's apartment, waited for a reply, and pushed open the door to say good morning. The elderly lady was dressed. She grabbed her cane and approached the doorway on her way to the TV room. "How are you this morning, dear?" she asked in her deep voice. Mrs. P must've been an alto, Carla thought.

  "A little tired, Mrs. P."

  "You mustn't keep such late hours then, my dear. It doesn't do one's complexion any good when one gets a bit older, you know," she chided.

  Paula Pembrooke's complexion is as wrinkled as a prune, Carla thought. And she wears too much makeup for a woman her age.

  Carla felt like telling the woman what she'd really been doing all weekend, but she bit her tongue and faked a smile instead. She hoped to get a glance at Evan from Mrs. P's bedroom window when the woman left.

  When she looked out, he wasn't there. Either he was late or he wasn't coming at all.

  Disappointed, Carla left and stopped by to check on the twins.

  "Ladies? How are you both today? Did you have a nice weekend?"

  "The Sunday meal was especially good, Carla, and so was the entertainment," Maddy was quick to say.

  "And we were greatly pleased to listen to the poetry readings by Mr. Blackman," Jessie added. "He's quite a handsome gent, isn't he, sister?"

  Maddy nodded, smoothing down the front of her flowered shirtwaist. "We had quite a nice discussion with him later, Carla," she went on. "He's quite knowledgeable about Shakespeare. And, of course, both Jessie and I acted in off-Broadway Shakespearean plays when we were younger."

  "I do hope he comes back again, Carla. Do you think he might?" Jessie asked.

  "I'll speak to Mrs. Wright," she replied. "Perhaps." Clutching her clipboard against her chest, Carla went on to say, "Well then, ladies, I will see you later. Please come to the special tea party we're holding for Mrs. Llewellyn later this afternoon. She's celebrating her seventy-fifth birthday today and she promised to play a few oldies on the piano for us."

  "We were looking forward to talk with that young gardener this morning, but we haven't seen him. Do you know if he's given up caring for the rosebushes?"

  Carla wondered, too. "I have no idea. I don't believe he has a firm schedule. Maybe he'll be here later."

  Oh, I hope so. Or maybe, I'll see him tonight.

  * * * *

  The phone rang at seven that Monday morning. Evan grabbed it quickly, thinking it might be Carla. "Hul-lo."

  "Well, well, sleepy-head," the male on the other end of the telephone line crowed. "Getting your beauty winks?

  "Who is this?"

  "Your old cousin, Rocco. Remember me from Atlantic City? Or were you too busy screwing that leggy cunt, Evie?"

  "Uhh." He coughed and cleared his throat. "None of your damn business, Rocco. And don't call me 'Evie.'" He yawned and scratched his head. "Why are you calling me anyway?"

  "We got business, Cuz. I need you to talk to the old man for me. It's almost two months until election day, and I've got some damn shithead Irishman running against me. I want you to tell Uncle Tony to lay off."

  Evan sat up straighter and shook the spider webs from his foggy brain. He had awakened with a monstrous erection from a wet dream about Carla. It was getting to be a habit. He glanced at his digital clock and cursed.

  "What the hell are you doing, phoning me at this time of the morning?" Then repeated, "Or any morning as a matter of fact? You got rocks in your pea-sized, Neanderthal brain?"

  "Now, now, Evan, my boy. Don't be a smart ass. I can still take you, remember? If I can't, I've got a couple of boys that can mess up that pretty face of yours."

  "You wish."

  "Yeah. Just try me, lover boy."

  Evan heard the nasty sneer in Rocco's tone. He'd been a bully from the age of ten. No way would Evan let the little pisser get the best of him nowadays.

  "Never mind that crap. Let's get down to business," Rocco continued. "The old man is on his last legs, I hear. Maybe he won't make it till Election Day, but then again, he might. But he's still got some clout downtown. Make sure he knows what I expect to happen, or things may get a little rough. For him, for you, or even for that fucking whore you're so fond of."

  The Goddamn cocksucker is threatening Uncle Tony, me--and Carla. The bastard! I shoulda tucked her away in the Poconos instead of going to Atlantic City.

  "I'll be talkin' to you." And Rocco hung up.

  Evan headed for the bathroom. He pissed, then turned on the faucet full blast and splashed cold water on his face and neck. Grabbing a towel, he gazed directly into the mirror, meeting his reflection. He pushed back most of the mop of curly, black hair that hung over his forehead and ears. I need a haircut, he thought.

  He knew his face as well as anyone, and now he scrutinized it. His forehead and chin were bronzed by the summer sun, as were the prominent bones of his cheeks carved by a sculptor's tools. He grazed a wet palm over his sprouting whiskers. When he frowned into the mirror, coal, black, slashing brows scrunched over his eyes. Bending closer to look into his deep-set eyes, he noticed a spark glinting in his pupils where they caught the bathroom's overhead light. Flickers of hatred flashed back at him from behind his thick, spiky lashes. A gleam of white, even teeth reflected in the glass. He spit his animosity into the porcelain basin and opened the faucet farther, letting the water run. Evan had learned to despise his cousin's family. If the Gardenia family had killed his father, he vowed somebody would pay.

  And Rocco needed taking down a peg.

  * * * *

  Evan went to visit with his uncle after he got the phone call from Rocco. Today Tony was still in bed, not sitting up in his wheelchair to watch the ballgame. When Evan entered his bedroom, his brown eyes opened slowly as if they were weighted down with lead.

  "Uncle?"

  "Good, Evan." He sounded tired. "I'm glad you came. What news?" he said, sucking in a long, deep breath. "Do you have something to tell me?" His uncle's voice wavered. Evan saw he had trouble breathing, but there was no oxygen tank next to the bed or anything plugged into his nostrils. Looking weak and worn, Tony waved Evan to a chair beside the bed. "Tell me."

  "It's Rocco," Evan began. "I ran into him in Atlantic City over the weekend. He's worried about his getting elected for another term."

  "Bastardo! Worried is he? I'd run il cogliane leccacazzi out of town if I could."

  Tony's hatred burned in his eyes. He almost choked on his words, bringing on a violent coughing spell. Angelina heard and rushed into the room with a bottle of medicine. She doled out a spoonful of brown liquid and gently coaxed Tony to swallow it.

  "Give him a minute, Evan," she said, keeping a weather eye on her employer and friend. Frowning at Evan, she ordered, "You talk. Let him listen. It's better that way, eh? You wait. I bring you a beer." And she left.

  "Rocco wanted me to speak to you ... to butter you up ... get on his side."

  Tony only grunted.

  When Angelina returned with the bottle of beer and a glass, Evan took a long pull from the Bud(r) and put down the glass. "He mentioned his opponent. I think he said it was Kevin Reilly. Do you know the man?"

  "Reilly's a good man. Better than Rocco Gardenia ever was."

  "I'll have to check him out. I haven't had time yet."

  Evan hesitated, wondering if he should mention Rocco's threats. He purposely didn't mention Carla. After all, she was no part of this problem.

  "He's got a big mouth, uncle, and tiny biga. He thinks he can scare me, but I don't scare that easy."

  Tony's gray eyebrows lifted. "Il cazzo threatened you? Figlio di puttana!"

  "Hey, Uncle Tony, don't you think I can take care of him and his punks? I'm a little bigger than I was when he last punched me out." Evan grinned. "But I've got to sniff around first. Who do you think I should pump for some info?"


  Evan and his uncle spent another quarter of an hour together before Evan rose to go. Tony gave him the names of three old "soldiers" who might talk. Now all he had to do was find them and hope they were still alive.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Evan didn't call Carla. Neither did he show up to work in the garden. She finally remembered he worked nights at Medieval Showtime and spent hours training during the days. She tried to put him and their weekend out of her mind, but she was itching for more of him. She dreamed of the rush of satisfaction from Evan's exciting, monstrous fucking, but was determined not to pleasure herself. Nothing could compare with his hard, hot cock rubbing along the insides of her vagina until the contractions raised her off the bed and into abandoned, sensational, and glorious ecstasy.

  What would she do when he and his gorgeous penis weren't around? She began to realize that she would miss more than what he and his body could do to her. She found she was growing fond of the big hunk.

  On Thursday after work, Carla stopped at a garden nursery and strolled through several rows of rosebushes. Finally, she chose a brilliant red one and a pure white one and also bought mulch and rose fertilizer. It was a stupid thing to do because roses were nearing the end of their blooming season. At the same time, it reminded her she was nearing the end of her own season of erotic enjoyment, too. Evan had years of potency in front of him. Her hormones were on the wane, like the pull of the moon on the tides. She wished she'd been brave enough to find a man sooner. Even at this late date--especially at this late date--she would have liked to bear a child she could love. At least, she reminded herself, she'd done what she planned before she reached the age of 40. That was something, anyway. She didn't think she had the courage to seek out another man and do it again--or find someone like Evan. Evan had made it easy for her to succumb when he seduced her.

  Nevertheless, she bought the rosebushes to plant in her garden. That way she'd recall the times she and Evan had enjoyed making love, if only for a few weeks.