by Anny Cook
Abruptly, the leisurely ride turned into an unbridled gallop toward the finish. She threw her head back, screaming his name. Fierce waves of contractions gripped his cock, tugging and milking him in an untamed orgasm. He shouted as he pulsed endlessly in her grasp.
Fighting for breath, waiting for their pounding hearts to slow down, they cuddled together on the recliner in the silence, shaken more profoundly than either had anticipated.
Chapter Three
Becky sighed. “I suppose we have to get up.”
“I have a very comfortable bed upstairs,” Joe pointed out with a yawn. “I vote that we go up there, maybe have a soak in my garden tub before we make love again.”
She raised her hand. “That has my vote.”
He pulled the lever to bring the chair upright and lifted her from his lap, setting her in front of him. Then, getting to his feet, he led her to the stairs, pausing briefly at the powder room to discard the condom. They slowly climbed the stairs, turning toward his bedroom when they reached the second floor. He pointed to the bathroom, “Your turn. I’ll get some towels from the linen closet and be right back. Oh, yeah. The stuff in the pink basket is for you.”
Becky nodded, went into the bathroom and closed the door. She stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the door and studied her reflection. The woman in the mirror was a decadent looking hussy, she decided. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes smoldered, and the stockings—her only apparel—were decidedly the worse for the wear. Wow. She looked like she’d spent the night…doing exactly what she’d done with Joe. Truth in advertising.
After peeling off the ruined stockings, she turned to the counter, poking through the pink basket—brush, toothbrush, comb, a short silky robe and toiletries. With a small grin, she brushed her hair and twisted it up in a loose knot, fastening it with one of the elastics from the basket. She couldn’t believe that she was that uninhibited woman downstairs.
When Joe knocked on the door, she opened it with a small flourish, gaily motioning for him to join her. “Come in, come in. Boy, am I looking forward to a hot bath.”
He dumped the towels on the closed toilet seat and brushed past her to start the water flowing. “We can have bubbles or we can use the jets. Which would you prefer?”
“Are you kidding? Jets, of course.” She frowned as she noticed the nasty scar on his back. Touching it lightly, she asked, “What happened?”
“That? A souvenir from my time in jail.” He straightened up with a grunt. “One of the inmates didn’t take it well when I rejected his advances.”
A rush of choppy images flooded her mind. The midnight visits from Tom’s parole officers. The calls from jail in the pre-dawn hours. The struggles to keep toddlers Lizzie and Sean quiet in the visiting rooms at the prison—the terrible humiliation of facing her parents and neighbors every time Tom was arrested and the out of control anger and abuse when Tom got out on parole.
Jail, jail, jail…
The word reverberated in her mind, blocking out everything around her. She backed away, fumbling for the doorknob.
Jail, jail, jail…
How could she have made such a terrible error in judgment? Wasn’t once enough? She jerked the door open, raced through the bedroom to the stairs and pounded down the steps to the main hall.
“Becky!” Joe shouted. “What the hell?” He turned off the water and ran after her. “Becky?”
Frantically she searched in the hallway until she found her dress, yanked it over her head, groped in his jacket pocket for her handbag and pulled the door open just as he reached the hall. “Becky? What the hell is going on?”
Shaking her head, she rushed barefoot out on the porch and down to the sidewalk. “I can’t do it. Not again, Joe. Sorry!”
He snatched up his trousers and pulled them on, zipping them as he ran out into the night after her. Stubbing his toe on the curb, he cursed and hopped twice before he caught her shoulder, twirling her so that she faced him under the streetlight. Stunned, he saw her face was wet with tears. “What the hell is wrong?”
“I can’t do it, Joe. I made one mistake with Tom. I just can’t deal with another convict!” she sobbed. “Never knowing when the cops are going to knock on the door. Never knowing when I’ll get a call in the middle of the night.” She shook her head. “I won’t do that to my kids again.”
Suddenly realizing the damage and insecurity her years with Tom had inflicted, he jerked her close, tucking her head under his chin and rocking her as he worked to clear the misunderstanding from his careless words. “War prisoner, Becky. I was a prisoner of war in Iraq. Not for very long. They rescued me before the enemy could execute me, but I have some scars.” Joe wasn’t even sure she was listening, but he held her tightly as he repeated his story over and over until she shook her head and pushed away. Reluctantly, he released her, watching her face closely in the uncertain light.
Trembling, she rubbed the goose bumps spreading like a rash up bare her arms. “Wh-what did you say?”
“I was a prisoner of war, Becky. Overseas.”
“Overseas.” She repeated it carefully as though that would give the word meaning.
“I was in Iraq. Taken prisoner by one of the splinter groups.”
“You were a soldier?”
“Yeah. When the extraction team found me, I wasn’t in very good shape. I lost a kidney.”
She took a deep shuddering breath. “Oh, God, Joe. How can you stand to look at me? I-It never occurred to me that you were in the military.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and ducked his head while he tried to decide the best way to handle her. Finally, he shot her a considering look from the corner of his eye. “You didn’t show very much faith in me,” he admitted. “But considering your past, I suppose I can understand. It seems to me that the best way to handle this is for us to go back across the street, climb those stairs and soak in the tub while we get to know each other. Ten years is a long time, Bec. We need to catch up.”
“Truly?”
“Seriously. Any objections?” he asked cautiously.
She scrubbed at the tears drying on her face, struggling to muster a smile. “No. I suppose not. But we should leave the lights off, ‘cause I’m not a pretty crier.”
“I’m tough,” he assured her. “I can take it.” He offered her his hand. After a moment, she took it and together they walked back to his house. “You know, it’s a good thing I didn’t shut the door. I think my keys are in the house on the hall table.”
“Well, if you had, you would just have to spend the night in my room at Karen’s.”
“Yeah, but you only have a twin bed at Karen’s.”
She shrugged, trying really hard for a lighter touch. “So we’d have to sleep very, very close together.”
“That goes without saying, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
When they walked back through the front door, Joe halted her with a touch on her shoulder. “I want to apologize to you before we go any further.” He felt the muscles under his hand go rigid. “No, not for making love with you. Never. That was wonderful. Amazing.”
“Then what?” she whispered in the shadows.
“I know about trauma and stress. I was in counseling for months when I came back from Iraq. I should have talked to you.”
Abruptly, she doubled her fist and punched him in the belly.
Joe grunted and rubbed his sore stomach. “What the hell was that for?”
“That was for thinking I’m a fragile little flower! So I broke down a bit. So I freaked out! I’m not some blithering ninny that you have to wrap in cotton wool. I’m strong and I can handle it!”
Fighting back a laugh, he watched her straighten her spine, standing tall and indomitable while she glared at him militantly. “I believe you,” he assured her gravely. “Absolutely.”
She turned, marched down the hallway and up the stairs. When she reached the top, she leaned over the banister and inquired, “Well
? Am I taking a bath alone? Or do you plan to join me?”
“Start the water! I’ll be right up!” When she went into the bedroom, Joe made a quick pass through the hall and living room, collecting their discarded clothing. After checking the locks and turning off the lights, he headed upstairs to join Becky determined that this time things would end differently.
By the time he made it to the bedroom and dumped the clothing on a chair, Becky was in the tub, with a blissful expression on her face. Thoughtfully, he lit the candles on the dressers and turned back the covers. Grinning with relief, he stripped off his slacks as he watched her relax against the back of the tub, her head resting on a small towel and a folded washcloth covering her eyes. Then a vague memory came to him of his sister’s remedy for what she called ‘crybaby eyes.’ His sister, Emmie swore that cucumbers were the best for the swelling. She fell in and out of love so often she sure had the experience to prove it.
He went back downstairs to the kitchen, dug out a cucumber from the veggie drawer in the fridge and whacked off a few thin slices, tossing them on a paper towel. With his peace offering cradled in his hand, he went back upstairs.
Becky removed the washcloth and sat up when he returned to the bathroom. “What’s in the paper towel?” she asked.
“Cucumbers.” Joe held out his hand so she could see the damp slices on the paper.
“No dressing?”
“They’re for your eyes. Scoot up.” He set his present on the side of the tub and climbed in behind her, then tugged her back against his chest. “Now put your head on my shoulder and relax,” he directed. As soon as she was in place, he plucked two slices from the pile and placed them over her eyes.
“Ohhh. That feels so good.” Becky fought off tears as she rested her head on his shoulder. Other men might be uncomfortable with a woman going through a meltdown, but Joe… Joe brought her cucumber slices. From the time he kissed her on his porch the day she arrived, he’d been determinedly worming his way into her lonely heart, making a place for himself in her life. But with his homely gift of cucumber slices for her sore eyes, the last of her resistance disappeared and for the first time in her life, she really fell in love. Soul deep, abiding love.
The tension bled away as she relaxed in his arms and they shared bits of their pasts. Joe told her about some of his time in Iraq and the difficult recovery. She hesitantly talked about her marriage and divorce from Tom, revealing more than she realized while she basked in the comfort of Joe’s embrace. When the words finally dried up, Joe switched off the jets in the tub.
“Feel better?” he asked as he slipped his hands under her arms and cupped her breasts. Her nipples tightened to hard little nubs that poked his palms.
Becky arched into his embrace and moaned.
“I take it that’s a yes?” He gently pinched the enticing tips and tugged rhythmically while nibbling the soft spot on her neck just below her earlobe.
“Joe?”
“Um-hmm?”
She twisted in his arms until she was on her knees facing him. “Take me to bed.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “That’s the plan.”
He stood and helped her to her feet before stepping out of the tub. Kissing between strokes and pats, they made a sketchy business of drying off before moving into the bedroom. She halted next to the bed, taking in the lit candles and flowers. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful. The candles are just background.”
“You’re a romantic,” she said in pleased discovery.
Lifting her in his arms, he settled her on the bed, following her down with sudden urgency. “I’ll be whatever you want if you’ll stay, if you’ll give me a chance.”
Cupping his face in her hands, she looked deep in his dark eyes, searching for the truth. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he met her eyes straight on, allowing her to see the love he felt for her. After a moment, she lifted her head and kissed him. “I’ll stay.”
“I’ll never let you down,” he promised. He turned his head at the dull thud of a slamming door. “Sounds like someone’s home at Karen’s.”
“They’ll have to get their own men.” When she pushed at his shoulder, he rolled to the side, allowing her to take the lead. She propped herself on her elbow, trailing her fingers across his chest, idly sifting through the curls, nudging at his tiny erect nipples. “I want to look at you.”
“Be my guest. I like it when you look at me.”
Drawing one finger down to his navel, she paused to investigate the little indentation before following the trail of dark curls until she reached his penis. His belly rippled as his hips tilted. Her fingers curled around his cock as she lifted it, assessing its strength and thickness. “You’re big,” she observed breathlessly. “No wonder you gave me so much pleasure.”
Joe inhaled sharply as she ran her fingers down the heavy vein from the tip to his base before delving down to heft his testicles in her soft hand. “Uh, you might get more than you bargained for if you keep playing around down there.”
“I hope so,” she teased. “I want to taste you.” Moving back to his heavy pulsing staff, she ran a questing finger around the ridge near the flared tip, gently rubbing the soft skin.
“Oh, yeah.”
Shifting her position until she was kneeling between his legs, she bent until her mouth was a mere breath away from his cock. Warm, moist air engulfed him as she hesitated. “I don’t have much experience with this,” she warned him.
With a helpless laugh he replied, “No experience required. Just touch me.”
“How? What do you like?” she whispered. As her lips brushed the fluid welling from the tip, her tongue flicked out for a taste.
Joe gripped the sheet with his fists and breathed deep. “Sweetheart, I like anything you do. Anything.”
With a slight smile, she opened her mouth, slowly sliding the flared head inside. He was a big man and his cock was correspondingly thick, more than filling the limited space inside her mouth. She paused, tonguing his hot flesh, adjusting to the way it felt to hold him like this while her hand gripped and stroked the rest of his shaft. His cock pulsed, leaking more salty fluid on her tongue. Convulsively, she swallowed and he groaned. Fascinated with his response, she sucked, startled when he lifted his hips in response.
None of her previous experience prepared her for the powerful feeling that flowed over her. She—a pudgy divorcé with two children—could give Joe this wonderful gift of pleasure! Always before it had been a mechanical act demanded by her partner as a right.
Then Joe came along, demanding nothing except her heart. His response lured her to explore other territory. Her nails lightly scored the soft skin of his inner thighs while one hand drifted down to cuddle his tight testicles. She gently rubbed the wrinkled skin with her thumb before seeking out new territory behind them. When her questing fingers glanced across his puckered anus, he flinched before sitting up like a jack in the box.
Before she knew it, Becky found herself flat on her back with Joe looming over her, frantically scrabbling for one of the condoms on the bedside table. “Joe?”
“Now, Becky.”
Her eyes widened in amazement at his guttural demand. She snatched the condom from him and dressed him with trembling haste, finding his obvious need incredibly exciting. Moments later, as he thrust his cock deep in her slick pussy, her body tightened in a shocking climax. Totally unprepared, she clung to him blindly, lost to everything but the waves of pleasure that washed over her as he plunged out of control…two, three, a fourth time before pressing deep with a loud groan. His cock pulsed in her tight grasp so powerfully she could feel the semen spurting in the condom. Just for a moment, she mourned the fact that they were not skin-to-skin.
Finally, with a gasping breath Joe rolled them to the side. His arms tightened around her as he held her close to his bellowing chest. Her ear rested against his pounding heart. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked before nippin
g him sharply just below his nipple.
“I was going to take longer…”
Pressing an inquisitive finger in his navel, she said, “Joe, you’re gonna have to get over this, if we’re going to see each other after tonight.”
He lifted his head and frowned down at her. “Get over what?”
“This tendency to blame yourself for every little thing.” Unable to resist, she found his tight little nipple and nibbled on it, enjoying the salty taste and scent of him. “I’m a grown woman. And I find your love-making very much to my liking. I can’t tell you how incredibly exciting it is for me when you want me like that.” She slid him a naughty look barely shielded by her lashes. “Up against the wall, on the floor, in the kitchen…it’s all good with me.”
“In the kitchen, huh?”
“Wherever the mood strikes you—as long as we’re alone.”
“Oh, woman! You have no idea of what you’re inviting! I’ve had a long time to fantasize about what I want to do with you.” Reluctantly, he withdrew and sat up on the side of the bed. “Wow. It could take years to carry out everything I want.”
Joe heard her belly growl when she yawned and stretched before sitting up. Immediately, he hopped up and went into the bathroom, reappearing in a few moments with their robes in hand. He laid hers on the bed before shrugging his on, tying the belt with a quick knot. Then, leaning down, he brushed a quick tender kiss on her lips. “I’m going down to the kitchen to raid the refrigerator. Come on down when you’re ready and we’ll have a midnight supper.”
