JanesPrize

by Margrett Dawson

  Her body was drained of energy yet still throbbing and glowing. More alive than she had ever been, she closed her eyes, whispered “good night” and drifted into sleep.

  When she awoke, it was full daylight and her back was cold. Her first panicky thought was that Pierce had disappeared. That all the events of the past night had been a dream, a fantasy brought on by the stories of the house, the painting and too many cheesy tortilla chips.

  She turned over and saw him sitting in her camping chair, dressed in his old-fashioned suit and seemingly lost in thought. He heard her move and lifted his head. A beam of sunlight touched the side of his face, throwing shadows under his eyes and around his mouth.

  “Good morning.”

  She sat up and pulled the covers over her breasts. “You’re still here.”

  He rose from the chair and knelt by the cot. He kissed her. Stubble grazed her cheek and pricked her lips. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “It seems I’m here to stay. Did you expect me to disappear?”

  She let her fingers trail down his face, tracing the outline of his mouth, exploring his jaw line. “I didn’t know what to expect. I haven’t had much experience with ghosts. In fact, I didn’t believe in them.”

  “Most people don’t. If they do believe they usually invent all kinds of things to scare themselves half to death. Ghosts are just people, you know. They wouldn’t hurt you any more than a normal person would. A few rotten apples have given us a bad name.”

  She pressed her mouth to his. He ran the tip of his tongue just inside her lips. The nerve endings tingled all the way to her crotch.

  “You don’t feel like a ghost.”

  “I’m not a ghost, not anymore.”

  “Right.” On a sigh she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him on to the bed. The feel of his tweed suit against her skin was intensely erotic. She continued to kiss him and fumbled at the buttons of his old-fashioned fly to release his penis.

  Her eyes closed, mouth glued to his, she caressed the shaft as it grew. Satisfied, she spread her legs and guided him into her.

  They climaxed almost immediately. “What a wonderful way to start the day,” she murmured.

  “No reason it couldn’t happen every morning.”

  Her eyes flew open. “What do you mean?”

  “I told you. You’re responsible for me. I shall have to come to live with you.”

  She gave him a shove so she could sit up and swing her legs out of the bed. “I think I need some coffee before I can discuss this.” She padded quickly to the bathroom and slipped on the toweling robe she had stuffed into her bag. Yesterday she’d had a vague idea of looking for a working shower. It was still a good idea.

  She’d also brought a large Thermos jug of coffee. It was a bit stewed but it was hot and strong. She poured two cups and added creamer. “Do you take sugar?”

  “Three please.”

  “Three?” She raised her eyebrows then cut off any further remark. In the 1920s few people had been worried about overindulgence in sweets.

  There were some assorted muffins in a box and she offered them to him. She took one and bit into it. They were getting stale but thank God they were crammed full of sugar and fat. She needed a boost to her metabolism.

  By her second cup of coffee she was thinking more clearly. She took a deep breath and smiled at Pierce. “We need to try to figure out what you want to do.”

  “I know what I want to do. I want to be with you so I can make love to you every night and most of the day.” He crammed the last of the muffin in his mouth. “Can I have another one of those?”

  She passed him the box.

  “There’s more to life than that.”

  “Is there?” He gave her that shit-eating grin again and then his face grew serious. “I know there’s more to life than that. It’s just that I enjoyed making love to you so much that I can’t imagine not being with you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  He poured himself more coffee and added four sugars. “So tell me. Why aren’t you married?” He paused, the cup halfway to his mouth. “Oh God, you aren’t, are you? Tell me you’re not married.”

  “I’m not married. I’m a teacher. I’ve taught fifth grade for five years and I think it’s about time I thought of changing… She sipped her coffee. “After I graduated I had a mountain of student debt. I knew I’d never get on my feet on a teacher’s salary without some help. So I went back to my old room, packed away the dolls and school prizes, repainted and bought new linen. It’s a big room with space for my computer in the corner and Dad’s old desk where I can grade papers.”

  He listened intently until she finished, “So I accepted to spend two nights in this house because I want the money. It’s like winning the lottery.”

  He put down his cup and brushed crumbs from his hands. “I was thinking before you woke up. I want you to fill me in on what has happened in the world since I died. I know there must have been a lot.”

  “You could say that.”

  “I want to know just enough to let me go talk to my cousin, who has to be over ninety now.”

  “When was he born?”

  “1918. But our family has good genes. I can remember a couple of uncles into their nineties. That’s why they didn’t believe I’d died so young. My cousin was a few years younger than me but he kind of followed me around.”

  “If he’s still alive.”

  “I never saw him on the other side.”

  For a second she didn’t understand what he meant. For some reason she’d never thought of the dead meeting up in family groups but it made sense.

  “But even if he’s dead,” Pierce said, “maybe he has a son or a daughter with instructions from him. Someone made the contract with you to stay in the house and someone is planning to sell it. You said my cousin refused to sell years ago in the hope I would come home.”

  “Tell me about him. Why would he insist on waiting so long for you to return?”

  Pierce shrugged. “He was a funny little sprout. Not at all athletic, which upset his dad no end. But he couldn’t get enough of baseball. I used to take him to the games every weekend. Once, we even went to Boston.” He smiled. “He got some autographs and said it was the best day of his whole life.”

  That went some way to explaining the cousin’s devotion. He must have hero-worshipped his manly relative who took the trouble to spend time with him.

  “I’ll arrive on his doorstep,” Pierce continued, “and tell him I’m Pierce’s grandson. You’re a teacher. If you teach me enough I can do it.”

  He took her hands in his. “Then maybe I can inherit this house. I’ll find a way to earn a living and we can be together.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “I didn’t lose my brains during the last ninety years. I know you don’t know me, you can’t love me yet. I think I’ve shown you how you’ve bowled me over. I never expected to come to life, much less to find a beautiful woman so ready to share my fantasies. I want a chance to prove to you that you really want me to be your slave for the rest of our lives.”

  It sounded totally crazy to her but what hadn’t been crazy the whole time she’d been in this house? What was one more mad idea? Besides, the thought of getting to know him more gradually soothed many of the little panicky feelings fluttering in her chest.

  After all, what did they have to lose? From what Pierce said he was here to stay whether as the grandson of the family, her lover or whatever else. She might have to help him get some kind of ID but in the euphoria of the moment that was the least of her concerns.

  “I’ll think about what you need to know,” she said. “But first you can tell me something. Is there such a thing as a shower around this place?”

  He shook his head. “No showers that I can remember but lots of baths. I’ll go outside for some wood.”

  He sprang to his feet and made for the door.

  “Hold on a minute! Wood?”

  “If it’s the same o
ld boiler, you have to light a fire under it to heat the water.”

  He saw the dubious expression on her face. “We had servants.”

  “I guess you’d have to.” It had been clear when she first went into the house that it had electric power. “Let’s check first to see if they converted the furnace to electricity when they wired the house.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Pierce led the way through a cavernous kitchen where tarnished copperware hung from racks. A massive cast iron stove took up almost all of one wall. But the place was clean. A crew had obviously been hired to spruce it up before the prospective sale. Lots of creepy things probably still lurked under the cabinets and sinks but Jane resolved not to think about them.

  Pierce located the boiler, which looked more modern than the rest of the appliances. It was all relative because the heater was still enormous. An electrical switch sat on the adjacent wall.

  “Thank heaven.” Jane smiled. “Is there water in it? We don’t want the whole thing to blow up.”

  “Good thinking,” Pierce repeated. “I’ve been out of touch for too long.”

  Water and power assured, they stood and looked at the monster. Jane sighed. “I guess it will take a while.”

  “With that amount of water? It used to take all day but I don’t know with this new system.”

  “I’d guess a couple of hours. I need some fresh air. Let me throw some clothes on and we’ll go for a walk. I’ll start your first history lesson. Tell me what you last remember…”

  It was a beautiful summer morning. The sky was an improbably perfect blue and a light breeze blew from the direction of the water. Pierce drew in a deep breath. “Intoxicating,” he said. “God, what a lot I’ve been missing. I shall be eternally grateful to you for grabbing hold of me.”

  They walked through the grounds for a couple of hours, stopping occasionally to admire the view and more often to kiss. Jane talked a blue streak, trying to think of everything that Pierce would need to know if he was to carry off his deception. World Wars flashed by as they ambled under the beech trees. Cold War and détente were covered as they crossed a grassy meadow. She listed the presidents, particularly the last ones.

  At the door of the kitchen she paused at last. “I don’t know about you, but I’m talked out. Let’s check on the water.”

  The boiler was nicely warm.

  “Where’s the bathroom?”

  “Fetch your things and follow me. There should be towels in the linen closet, which if I remember correctly is this way.”

  He opened a door onto a narrow passage lined with shelves. Sheets, pillowcases and bedcovers were stacked in dusty piles. One section held carefully folded towels. “Here we are.” He grabbed a couple of yellowed bath sheets and pulled them out. Two tiny brown shapes leaped from the shelf and disappeared behind the adjoining stack. Jane jumped back with a squeak of alarm and clamped her hands on Pierce’s arm.

  Pierce dropped the bundle he was holding. Each towel was shredded in the center, leaving sparse strands of cotton dangling in the air. He put an arm ‘round her shoulders. “Nothing to worry about. We disturbed a homemaking activity.”

  Jane shuddered. She wasn’t particularly squeamish but the two little mice had given her a shock. She laughed. “I guess we leave them to it. I have a towel in my pack.”

  “We’ll pick it up on the way.”

  He led her up the stairs to a room that looked over the back of the house, where the kitchen garden and stables had once been. A wide bed with a dusty red cover occupied most of the space. The windows were hung with heavy drapes.

  “This was my room. Not much has changed.” Pierce ran his fingers over an oak chest. “The bathroom is through here.”

  He opened a door on a wall next to the window and showed her into a bathroom that might have featured in a New York home decorating magazine aimed at the retro look.

  A large white china jug and basin, both decorated with swirls of blue flowers, stood on a washstand under the window. Sunlight streamed directly onto a huge claw-foot tub that sat in the middle of the floor. It had curved sides and a high back, like something from a Wild West movie.

  “Big enough for two, do you think?” Pierce turned oversized faucets inlaid with ceramic discs that announced Hot and Cold.

  The water gushed out, brown and foaming. “Yuck!” Jane sprang back.

  “Let it run for a while. The pipes are all cast iron.” He put his arm ‘round her and drew her close, his eyes on the rushing stream.

  Sure enough after a few minutes the color faded. Pierce released her and shoved a rubber plug into the drain. He mixed the water to a comfortable temperature and straightened.

  “I get to see you naked again. Come here.” He took her hand and drew her toward him. “Let me do it.” He stood behind her and unbuttoned her blouse, pushing it back from her shoulders. She hadn’t bothered with a bra. He bent his head and kissed the tender spot under her ear then cupped her right breast with his left hand, holding it as if weighing it in his palm.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful. You are so lovely.”

  Jane shook her head. “I’m very ordinary.” But her heart swelled with pleasure at the thought he found her beautiful.

  “No, your hair is the most perfect shade of honey. I love the way it curls around your ears.” As he spoke his free hand drifted over her head, down to her neck.

  “Your eyes are the best kind of blue. Not too dark, not pale like some. Just like the summer sky outside the window. Your skin is so soft I could stroke it all day.

  “Your ears are set exactly right, your throat is a delight.” She swallowed under his caress.

  “I have no words to describe the perfection of your breasts.” He squeezed each one gently so that the nipples puckered.

  She stood unmoving, her breath caught in her throat, as he unfastened her pants and drew them down to the floor. She wore a wisp of lace no larger than a thong. It was already soaked with the moisture seeping from her.

  “We’ll get rid of this.” He pulled her panties down, exposing her mound and vulva to the warm air of the room. He placed his curved palm over the curls at the base of her belly.

  Steam rose from the bathtub, the warm, damp tendrils curling around them like a magic mist. Pierce reached out with one hand to turn off the faucets.

  “Ready when you are.”

  Fortunately he kept an arm around her as he guided her to the tub. His wandering hands and seductive words, and knowing what he would do in a few minutes, had made her legs grow weak and shaky. She doubted she could have stood on her own.

  The warm water lapped at her breasts as she lowered herself into the bath and leaned against its high back. She closed her eyes and inhaled the steam. A few seconds later she heard Pierce’s whispered, “Let me in.” She moved forward, the water churned and he slid in behind her. Wavelets slopped over the side as she shifted to make room for him.

  He settled her on his lap, his legs straight underneath her bottom. His hands found her breasts again and he nuzzled her neck. She leaned her head back on his solid shoulder.

  “Lift your bottom up,” he whispered. She rose slightly and felt his thighs open under her just enough so his legs supported her as if she were sitting in an easy chair.

  “Feel down between your legs.”

  Her fingers found his cock, already large and seeking.

  “Put me inside you.”

  She was soft and swollen, eager for him. She guided him into her. With a sigh he thrust farther in until she was attached to him as if by a magnet.

  He rubbed his flat palms over her breasts. “I love squashing them. I could play with them all day. But we need to think about you. Where do you want my hands?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “Here?” His fingers parted the lips of her vulva and found her clit. She arched. “God yes.”

  “Not here?” His hand moved back to her breast and squeezed her nipple.

  �
�That too.” Her breath came fast and hot now as he worked first her clit then her nipple, all the while pushing his cock deeper and harder into her.

  One final touch on the nub of her clit was what brought her to climax. He held her tight against him as she bucked and shuddered in his arms. His groans sounded in her ear as she rode him and milked him with her wild movements until she felt the last massive thrust, so deep, so hard that she thought she would cleave in two.

  They lay supine with his arms around her until the water began to cool. When it was too cold for comfort Jane stirred and stepped out of the tub. She grabbed the towel she had brought with her, a tiny inadequate thing. She had never thought she would need a bath sheet. Pierce rose from the water and came to stand in front of her.

  “Give me the towel.”

  He took it from her and rubbed her dry around her breasts and her back then down her legs.

  His hands slid down her ribs and he sank to his knees. He pressed his face against her mound and she gave a tiny, involuntary thrust of her hips as he clasped her thighs.

  She felt his tongue thrust between the lips of her pussy and moved her legs wider apart. His arms went around her hips and he seized the cheeks of her ass in each hand. He held her prisoner while his tongue and lips ravaged her cunt. She grabbed his hair in both fists and held him hard against her. Unbelievably, Jane Chartraine, who used her vibrator once or twice a week and thought she was sexually aware, found herself carried away in a mindless climax for the fourth time in less than twelve hours.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Jane said an hour or so later as they sat on the wide porch, munching on granola bars and sipping lukewarm Coke. She swallowed the last crumbs and took a muffin. Another thing she’d learned was that sex gave her a tremendous appetite.

  “What’s that?” Pierce lounged in a cane rocking chair looking strong and handsome and not the slightest bit weary. A tiny flicker in her abdomen responded to the thought that he would be ready to make love to her again by nightfall. She dragged her mind back to the present.