An adult stories – Old Neighbor by talltails,talltails Chapter 1: Home Again
The flight from San Francisco to Winston-Salem seemed to stall over the Midwest. Flights are never longer than the ones home. He reached for his laptop, still in its case by his feet, out of habit, but there was no need for it. There were no emails to answer, no important questions to field from investors or board members, and no crises to avert with bankers or customers. His responsibilities for such things evaporated when the check cleared the bank. He was, absurdly, unemployed.
The laptop called to him like pain from a phantom limb. For nearly ten years, he had lived through that device, connected to people through it, taken commands from it, and issued commands to others with it. It had been his compass, directing him, leading him, and helping him lead others.
The vast flatness radiated out below him as he sipped his water. His seat in first class, purchased at the last minute for an obscene amount of money, provided him with a full view of the journey, boring as it was. Or maybe the scenery was beautiful, even spectacular, but he was bored–a man without a purpose.
That wasn’t exactly true, as his mother gave him a new task not long after the company had sold: prepare his childhood home for sale. Sheila Mitchell, Mark’s mother, had moved to Florida to be closer to her daughter and grandchildren, abandoning the home in Greensboro. As Mark was now available to help, she reasoned, he should clean out the old place and get it sold. She had all she needed in her new retirement community home.
Mark Mitchell was less enthusiastic than his mother regarding the idea, but given he had little else going and believed that saying “I don’t want to” was not an option, he reluctantly found himself on an eastbound flight to Greensboro with a single suitcase. A quick check out the window confirmed that the airplane had not moved in the last thirty minutes, or at least the scenery hadn’t changed, so he reclined his seat, closed his eyes, and waited.
Most people rent a car when they arrive in a new city. Mark was not like most people. He asked the cab driver to drop him at the nearest Toyota dealership and he wheeled his bag into their showroom.
“Good afternoon,” a salesman said. “Can I help you?”
Mark paused, the handle to his bag still in hand, and smiled. “I’d like to buy a car,” he said.
“I can help you with that,” the salesman said with a practiced smile. “What are you interested in?”
Glancing through the showroom, Mark’s eyes settled on a Toyota Highlander SUV. “This one,” said Mark, tapping it lovingly on the door. Then he glanced at the sticker in the window and shrugged.
The salesman smiled broadly. “That is a great choice. It’s a high-end model and has all the extras. Would you like to go over the features?”
Mark shook his head. “No, I just want to buy it.”
“Excuse me?” The salesman said.
“Credit card alright for this?” Mark said.
The salesman scowled. “Sir, this is a vehicle with a sticker price of over fifty-thousand dollars. You can’t just buy it with a credit card.”
“Sure I can,” said Mark, pulling a card from his wallet. “Figure out the full price, see if you can get some plates on it, and run the card for the whole amount. It’ll be fine. Here’s my driver’s license, too. Do a credit check.”
Dumbfounded, the salesman said, “I’ll need to speak with my manager.”
“OK,” said Mark. “I’m going to sit over here for a bit. I just got off a long flight. But don’t make me wait too long. I hate waiting.”
“Yes, sir,” the salesman said, and he walked to the office area, card in hand. He returned in two minutes with his manager.
The dealer’s sales manager, an older gentleman, said, “We ran a credit check, and you can purchase the car with this card. Is that your intention?”
“Yup,” said Mark. “Let’s get it done.”
In ninety minutes, Mark was driving a new Toyota Highlander, his suitcase in the back, and the greatest hits from the 1960s blaring on the satellite radio. Like his plane ticket to get here, he was sure he paid too much and couldn’t care less. The sale of his company had netted him nine figures, meaning the plane ticket and the new SVU’s expenses amounted to a rounding error on his net worth. Perhaps after ten years of pinching pennies, he felt the urge to let go for a bit.
Greensboro was just as he had remembered it, green, lush, and spacious. He had grown up here, gone to school here, and played little league and soccer long before college, graduate school, and San Francisco. Childhood memories of being that skinny, dorky kid, underdeveloped, awkward, and a little too cerebral for his own good flooded back to him as he drove through old neighborhoods.
When he pulled into his mother’s driveway, he turned off the engine and muttered to himself, “Now what?”
Chapter 2: Familiar Faces
The house was mostly as he remembered it. There were gaps where furniture once stood, but now it lived in Florida in Mrs. Mitchell’s new home. The remainder, Mark was informed, should be thrown into a dumpster without delay. As evening approached, Mark walked through the house, climbed the stairs, and stood in the door jam of his childhood bedroom. His twin bed, still nicely made, filled one wall. Posters of Mars rovers and fighter jets hung dusty on the walls, illuminated by the late afternoon sun.
Mark sat on his old bed and reminisced. There were video games and computer projects, all-night board game marathons with his fellow nerds, bowls of junk food, buckets of caffeinated drinks to fuel the young boys through the weekend, and many hours of quiet time reading, studying, and writing software for the next big thing. Alas, everything in this room seemed three sizes too small.
Though uncomfortable, Mark decamped into his parent’s bedroom and king-size bed. He would be the house’s last occupant, and there was no reason to squeeze into a twin bed when he had this alternative. Thankfully, this bed was also fitted with sheets and blankets.
The sun flooded the room and painted the walls with a yellowish hue. He walked to the window to see the backyard, overgrown and with a couple of breaks in the fence. He sighed, pulled his laptop from the bag, and began making lists of things to do and buy. His time in this house would not be over until it had sold.
The deck in the rear of the house had a handful of chairs and tables. Mark’s parents entertained friends on this deck throughout his childhood, and the pieces had withstood the heat of summers and the dampness of winters with aplomb. Though he knew there was no food in the house, his father’s well-stocked bar was likely still intact, and he made a beeline to it. With a drink in hand, he walked onto the deck and settled himself.
“Mark? Is that you?”
Mark turned in his seat to see a familiar face, though one he had no right to expect.
“Elizabeth?” Asked Mark as he stood. “I thought you had moved to Chicago. What a surprise!”
She walked from the neighboring house to his deck and met him with an embrace.
“My,” she said, “aren’t you all grown up!”
“Look who’s talking,” he said with a chuckle. “You look great. How have you been?”
“Can I sit?” She said, motioning to a chair.
“Of course,” said Mark. “Wait. Let me get you a glass. Scotch OK with you?”
“Absolutely,” she replied.
Mark retrieved a second glass from the kitchen, poured Elizabeth a drink, and refreshed his own.
“Now, how is it I find you here in Greensboro?” He asked.
Elizabeth Larsen scowled. “My marriage fell apart, then my mom’s health began to fail. I needed a place to go, so I came home. I’ve been taking care of her for the last year or so.”
Mark leaned in. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
She held the glass a little higher. “This helps,” she said with a smile. “So that’s why I’m here. What are you doing here? I thought you were in California?”
He shrugged. “I was this morning. Now I’m here. And, I guess I’m here for a while. Mom moved to Florida and assigned me to clean and sell the house. Lucky me,” he said, taking a sip.
Elizabeth shook her head. “Don’t you have to work?”
He laughed. “Never again.” When she looked confused, he continued. “I started a company in San Francisco ten years ago. I just sold it. I’m now officially retired or unemployed, depending on who you ask.”
“Did you drive here?” She asked.
“No,” he replied. “I flew.”
“Then where did that come from?” She said, motioning to the SUV.
“I bought that this afternoon on the way here from the airport.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Most people just take a limo, you know. They don’t buy a car.”
He rolled his eyes. “I knew I was going to be here for a while. I needed a car. Why wait?”
“What?” She said. “You write a check or something?”
“Just put it on my card,” he said matter-of-factly. “That way, I get points.”
They both busted up laughing at that. Then Elizabeth looked over her shoulder back to her mother’s house. With a frown, she said, “I should check on her. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I don’t like leaving her alone for long.”
He nodded, then smiled. “I may have an idea. Can I stop by in a bit?”
“Sure,” she said. “Mom would love to see you.”
Mark dug through the basement until he found the treasure. Shelia had purchased a video baby monitor when her daughter visited the previous year. He hoped to repurpose it.
“Knock knock,” he said at the Larsen’s front door.
Elizabeth met him and waved him in. Millie Larsen, much more frail than the last time he saw her, sat in a recliner smiling.
“Oh my goodness,” she said, “it’s the Mitchell boy. It’s been ages. Come in, come in. How have you been?”
Still holding the box, Mark sat next to Millie and said, “Hello, Mrs. Larsen, it’s so good to see you. How are you? Is Elizabeth taking good care of you?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’m just getting old. I had some trouble last year. The next thing I know, I’ve got a full-time caretaker. Elizabeth is such a dear.”
Elizabeth Larsen took a seat on the other side of her mother and held her hand. The family resemblance was obvious, but Mark was taken aback at Elizabeth’s beauty. It had been seventeen years since his high school graduation and, therefore, twenty since hers, but her face still radiated sweetness and elegance as it had back then. Her hair still glistened in the light. And her smile could still melt his heart.
“I have something that might help everyone feel safer,” said Mark. “Mrs. Larsen, I’ve got a high-tech patient monitoring system here that would keep you and Elizabeth in touch even if you were in different parts of the house. In fact, it would work even if Elizabeth were over at my house helping me. Would you like to try it?”
“Oh, my, you young people and your gadgets!” Millie said. “How does it work? What does it do?”
“Well,” Mark said, opening the box, “we put this piece here with you. All you need to do is talk, and Elizabeth can hear you with this other piece. In fact, she can see you, too. It’s like a video telephone.”
“What will they think of next?” Millie said as she examined the camera unit. “And all I need to do is talk?”
“Yup,” said Mark. “You could ask Elizabeth about lunch, or to bring you your pills, or, heaven forbid, tell her you’re hurt and need help. I hope it makes everybody feel better and safer.”
“Oh, you are a wonder,” she said. “Come over here. I want to kiss you on the cheek.”
Mark leaned in, and Millie gave him a peck. Then she waved a finger. “I thought you moved away? Why are you back?”
He retook his seat and said, “I did move away, but now I’m back for a while. I’ll be doing some work around the house and have time to visit both of you.”
“That’s so nice,” said Millie. “Elizabeth’s been very sad since her divorce.”
“OK, Mom, that’s enough gossip for one night,” said Elizabeth. “Let’s let Mark finish setting up the new fancy stuff while we get ready for bed.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Larsen,” said Mark.
“Goodnight, Mark. Thank you for the new thingamabob!” Replied Millie.
Elizabeth mouthed, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Take this,” he said. “Just point the camera toward her and plug it in. We can test it before we leave.”
Elizabeth’s face appeared on the receiver a minute later, and Mark said, “Wave.”
Elizabeth did, and Mark said, “Working great.”
She said, “Coming out–”
Chapter 3: Reeling in the Years
They sat side-by-side in the Larsen’s living room, watching the video from the baby monitor. When Millie coughed, and they could hear it through the receiver, they turned to each other and smiled.
“Want to get a refill on that Scotch?” He asked. She nodded, and they slipped out the back door.
He led her to the deck and into the kitchen. “It’s a little chilly to sit outside,” he said.
With drinks in hand, they sat on the loveseat and sipped their drinks, the baby monitor on the table before them. Millie coughed again, and they both grinned.
“I would have never thought of this,” she said. “But it works great. Thank you. And thanks for the drink,” she said as she tinged her glass to his.
“To old friends,” he said.
He leaned back, and his face fell. “I’m sorry about your divorce. Do you want to talk about it? I can be a good listener.”
Elizabeth put her drink on the table, took one last look at the monitor, and sighed. “It’s not a very happy story.”
He nodded but otherwise made no other movement.
“Maybe we could start with you,” she said finally. “I might need to get through another drink before I say my piece.”
Mark cleared his throat. “OK. Maybe it would be easier if we just started at high school and worked our way forward. Fair enough?”
She smiled and nodded at that.
“You were–” His eyes became unfocused, and they turned toward a corner of the room.
She tilted her head and waited.
“Sorry,” he said, “just thinking back.” He cleared his throat again. “This is the part where I make a fool of myself in front of the pretty girl,” he said.
She smirked and tapped him on the arm. “Oh, go on,” she said.
“You were a senior when I was a freshman. Remember? You were the quintessential girl-next-door, beautiful, tall, athletic, head cheerleader, homecoming queen, great student, read to the folks at the senior center, helped out at the food pantry, student council, everything. I was in awe. You seemed so grown up,” he said.
“And you had a crush on me,” she said, grinning.
“Just a small galaxy-sized crush, yeah,” he said, chuckling. “I remember prom when you and Jake Thomson stood in front of your house for pictures. You were wearing that blue gown that perfectly offset your braided blonde hair, the single red rose on your left side, and that gold necklace with the diamond to round it out. I can still close my eyes and see that outfit.”
Elizabeth shrugged, then snickered. She looked sheepish with the next. “You know, I lost my virginity to that asshole. What a fucking loser,” she said, shaking her head.
They both broke up laughing. “You’re shitting me!” He said.
“No,” she said. “I don’t know what was wrong with us back then. We girls just wanted to get our V-card punched, and it didn’t really matter with who.”
“Shit,” he said. “You knew I was available.”
“Stop it!” She said, laughing. Then she became serious. “He was the first of many bad choices in men. When I went to the university, I rushed and joined a sorority. We did lots of things with one fraternity, and though they treated us all like shit, we still slept with them. I finally got fed up when this jerk kept pressuring me to fuck him. All he wanted was a notch in the bedpost, so I gave it to him. Then I told my sorority sisters that he lasted a grand total of ninety seconds. The next thing I knew, he had a new nickname on campus: The Flash.”
“Oh, man,” he said, “that’s brutal!”
She just grinned and sipped her drink.
“That was the last fling I had,” she said. “I dated, but no more one-night stands, no more hooking up.”
Mark smiled. “So you grew up a bit. Good for you.”
She looked at him warmly. “You are very non-judgmental. And very kind. We’re supposed to be talking about you, though, remember?”
“Ah,” he said. “Well, in my defense, I like listening to you.”
She waggled a finger at him.
“Right.” He cleared his throat again. “Eventually, my neighbor with the Miss North Carolina looks went away to college, and I was left to fend for myself. I did all the things kids did, and maybe some things kids didn’t typically do. I spent a lot of time with my computer programming it. I loved it. I loved creating things and solving problems. I loved making beautiful things on the screen. When I graduated from high school, I attended Chapel Hill and did my master’s at USC.”
She looked concerned. “Are there any women in this story? Or men?”
“Women, yes,” he said. “There were just a few. I was too focused on school to be a good boyfriend. And I didn’t have much money. I’m not saying college girls are materialistic because a couple of them I dated didn’t care I was broke, but it didn’t help things. When I was at USC, I was just too busy to think about dating seriously. And I’m not into hookups. So, I just put my head down and finished.”
“Were you always that driven?” She asked.
“No,” he said. “It kind of snowballed over time. Before I graduated, I had this cool idea. I decided to start a company to pursue it. All my buddies thought I was nuts. They said that salaries are through the roof, that this is a great time to put away some coin, and that the start-up thing could wait.”
Elizabeth said, “That sounds like good advice. Why did you ignore it?”
“It is better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven.”
“Milton,” she said before sipping. “English literature major.”
Mark nodded his appreciation and sipped. “I started the company, which killed any prospects for a relationship. I dated, but nothing came of it except meeting some nice women.”
“And now the company has sold?” She asked.
“Yup,” he said, stretching his back. “I’m here to take care of the house and maybe reassess my life.”
She gazed into the baby monitor for a time. Mark watched her, concerned.
“We don’t have to talk about your divorce,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
She sighed. “This feels good,” she said. “I’ve not talked to anybody but my Mom in months.” She looked at him with a wan smile. “I met Stephen at a charity golf outing about ten years ago. He came from money and had movie star good looks. He treated me well, at least at first. But I didn’t realize I was just the trophy wife accessory to his life. After we were married, things got harder. I said I wanted kids, but he didn’t. Then, suddenly, he wanted kids, so we tried. After two years, he filed for divorce, claiming it was my fault we didn’t conceive. He got great lawyers; I got mediocre ones. Long story short, he took me to the cleaners.”
“Oh, god, Elizabeth,” he said, touching her arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Want to know the kicker?” She asked. “He’d been having an affair with someone at work for years and had two kids with her. Before he said he wanted us to get pregnant, he supposedly took a business trip to the far east. As it turned out, he went to LA instead of Japan and got a vasectomy. Then he spent two weeks in Vegas eating room service and his mistress before coming home and hate-fucking me for two years. I got played.”
Mark’s mouth dropped open. “That’s sick.”
Elizabeth took a swig from her glass, then shook it, asking for a refill. “At least I know my lady parts might still be working. Bastard.”
When Mark reseated himself, they sat quietly for a few minutes.
“Mark,” said Elizabeth.
“Umm,” said Mark.
“You’re staring at me,” she said with a small smile.
He chuckled. “Sorry. I was thinking about perception.” She looked confused. He sat up straighter. “I’m seeing you here before me. You are not the girl who left high school; you are a beautiful grown woman. But when I look at you, I still see the young girl and you as you are now. Somehow I see both. Does that make sense?”
Elizabeth nodded and said softly, “I’m not that innocent girl anymore. My marriage got nasty in the end. I’m not very proud of myself. He did things to piss me off, then I did things to make him even angrier. It was ugly.” She fidgeted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable, but continued. “Stephen knew I hated gambling and cigars. So, he brought his friends home for all-night poker parties, cigars, whiskey, and music. I complained, and he told me to fuck off. So, I got him back. He hated women who smoked. So I started smoking in the house.”
“You smoke?” He asked.
“I didn’t. Well, we all did stupid shit in college. My sorority sisters and I would sometimes smoke at the bars to get the attention of boys, but I never seriously took up the habit. It’s disgusting.”
Mark waited.
“It worked. He hated me smoking more than I hated him and his friends stinking up my house. By then, even the hate-fucking had stopped, so there was nothing left but mutually assured destruction,” she said. “Except now–fuck,” she said.
She took her drink and walked to the kitchen, opening a cupboard door and finding an ashtray. Mark followed her to the deck and sat beside her once she settled.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she said, and she pulled a pack from her jacket, put a cigarette between her lips, and lit it. After taking a drag, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and said, “Fuck,” before blowing a cone of smoke downwind. “I am so fucking stupid,” she said.
Mark reached for her hand. “No, you’re not. Your husband tortured you, and you found a coping mechanism, that’s all. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“I hate the cravings,” she said. “And I hate hiding it from Mom. She’d kill me if she knew.”
Mark squeezed her hand. “You can smoke in my house. She doesn’t need to know a thing.”
“Really?” She said. “I thought you’d–” She trailed off.
“Judge you?” He said.
“Yeah,” she replied.
“Not a chance,” he said. “I still see you the way you’ve always been: happy, sexy, accomplished, and generous. I think you’re amazing.”
She took another drag and said, “You’re staring again.”
He shrugged. “Sorry, but you look so damn sexy right now.” He closed his eyes. “Maybe it’s the jet lag.”
She reached for his hand and said, “It is really OK if I smoke in the house.”
“Sure,” he said.
She rose, still holding his hand, and walked him into the kitchen. Once inside, she slid the door closed, put her cigarette in the ashtray, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him. His arms slid down her sides to her waist and held her.
When the kiss broke, she said, “I’ve made a lot of bad choices with men, but not tonight. Please, Mark, make love to me. It’s been so long.”
His hands slid down to her ass, and he squeezed. He said, “I don’t have condoms. I can’t even remember the last time I had condoms. I’m sorry.”
She pulled him into another kiss and said, “I’m on the pill again. I trust you. Just take me to bed.”
Chapter 4: A Reunion of Sorts
He walked her to the master bedroom, extinguishing lights along the way. Elizabeth brought the baby monitor from the living room table. Once upstairs, Mark found a place to plug it in and set it where both could see it.
“At least we don’t need to be quiet,” he said, chuckling.
She stood before him in the subdued light. “Elizabeth,” he said, “I don’t want a one-night stand. You’re beautiful, and I want you in my bed, but I’d rather keep you as a friend than lose you because we rushed.”
He could see a tear come to her eye. “You keep saying things like that,” she said, “and I’m going to fucking jump your bones.”
They both chuckled and turned to the king-size bed.
“Is that your parent’s bed?” She asked.
He frowned and nodded. “Yup.” Then he shrugged. “We could do it in my old room on the twin bed. I know that would fulfill an old fantasy of mine.”
She slugged him playfully on the shoulder, then turned him to her. “How come you can put me so at ease?”
He thought for a moment and said, “Maybe because I don’t want anything from you except for you to be happy.” Then he drew her into another kiss.
Her hands snaked down his torso and began unbuttoning his shirt. He felt her shaking. “I’m nervous,” she said.
He sighed and kissed her forehead. “Me, too. Take your time, and let me stare at you some more.”
“I’m just an ordinary old divorcée now,” she said, looking down and continuing on his buttons.
He lifted her chin and made her look him in the eye. “There has never been anything ordinary about you.”
Perhaps it was just the moment, the culmination of emotions from seeing an old friend, or the fact that no man had spoken to her with such honesty and affection for years, but it all became too much. She fell against him, holding his shirt to support herself, burying her head in his chest, sobbing.
Mark held her close, stroked her hair, and rocked reassuringly. Elizabeth’s hands released his shirt and encircled him, squeezing him, roaming over his back and shoulders, her grip convulsing with every sob.
When she finally calmed, she said, “I’ve ruined the moment.”
He gave her a little squeeze. “Nonsense.” Then, after she finally looked into his eyes again, he said, “I suspect that was a long time coming. I’m glad I could be here for you.”
She nodded, then laid her cheek on his chest again and sniffed. In a whisper, she said, “Can we go to bed? Will you just hold me?”
“Of course,” he said, kissing her forehead again and releasing her.
He stepped back and finished removing his shirt. His jeans, socks, and underwear dropped next, and he climbed into bed.
“Would you like a T-shirt or something?” He asked.
She glanced at the baby monitor, confirming her mother was sleeping, and said, “No. I want to feel you against my skin.”
A few moments later, she was in bed with him, her head resting on his shoulder and her free hand pulling his face to her for a kiss.
“Thank you doesn’t seem enough,” she said, “but it’s all I have.”
“It’s more than enough,” he said, and they closed their eyes.
Chapter 5: Midnight Rumble
She woke near midnight to find Mark looking down at her. “Hey, you,” he said.
Her only answer was a smile.
“Did you sleep?” He asked.
She stretched, flung a leg over his, and said, “Best sleep in years. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to keep saying thank you, you know. I’m the one that feels lucky here,” he said.
“Oh,” she said with a smile, “you’ve not gotten lucky–yet.” With that, her hand moved down his torso and touched his dick. His small gasp confirmed she’d found what she was looking for. “Is this OK?” She asked. Her hand encircled his prick and began pulling it to life. “Has it been a while?”
He took a deep breath. “You have no idea,” he said, then kissed her forehead again while she busied herself beneath the covers.
Her strokes were slow and deliberate. Just as he began to relax, she pulled the covers from them and straddled his thighs, his cock still in her hand. With her second hand free, she held his ball sack, hefting his nuts, stroking them gently with her thumb, and finally encircling the sack with her index finger and thumb and pulling. His cock pointed to the ceiling as she increased her pace.
“Christ,” he said. “If you keep that up, it’ll be worse than The Flash.”
She chuckled, squeezed the base of his cock, and leaned toward him. “No chance of that, mister.”
She slid forward and sank upon his shaft. “Fuck,” they said in unison.
“So good,” she said as she slid forward and back, feeling his shaft slip within her.
Mark reached for her breasts and dragged a thumb across each nipple before massaging the sides of her boobs and repeating the process. She threw her head back and sighed.
Her fingernails dug into his chest as she began bouncing on his prick. After a few strokes, she put all her weight on one hand and moved the other to her cunt, rubbing her button, slipping her fingers to his cock for lubrication, then back to the clit.
There was a fire in her eyes when she looked at him. “I want to cum. I need to cum. We need to cum. Cum in me. Make me cum. Fuck. Fuck!”
Her pace, rhythmic and steady just moments ago, was now frantic, passionate, and almost violent. She slammed down onto him, furiously rubbing her clit, and grinding her crotch on her hand. “So close,” she said. She kept at it, determined, committed, and focused. For minutes she assaulted her hand, furiously rubbing her clit, and dragging her crotch forward and back.
Mark closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but spraying cum inside this goddess. Then, just as he thought he’d passed the point of no return, he felt her pussy convulse on his cock. When he opened his eyes, he saw her face and was sure she was about to pummel him. Her claws returned to his chest, and he felt her digging. Somewhere in all that, he had begun cumming, sending jets into her, soaking her, giving her what she’d demanded.
Her movements stopped, and she stared an empty gaze into his eyes. Her mouth moved, but no words came. He placed a hand below her navel and felt the tremors of her receding orgasm. Finally, she blinked.
He tried to speak, but only grunts came out. His prick, now withered, was spit out of her pussy unceremoniously. As though that signified the end of things, she took a deep breath and lowered herself onto his chest, rubbing her hands in his hair.
“God, I needed that. I know I’m supposed to stop saying thank you, but thank you,” she said.
She looked up at him, her head still lying on his chest, and he said, “You are so damn beautiful.”
She sighed and said, “You make me feel beautiful.”
They basked in the afterglow for a time before she slid from him and put her head on his shoulder again. They kissed and smiled, her legs grinding on him and his hand on her breast. When she had gone quiet for a while, he asked, “Penny for your thoughts?”
She sat up and leaned against the headboard, and he rose with her. “I hate clichés,” she said.
Matt’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
She rolled her eyes and said, “I need a cigarette.”
After a moment, he snickered, and she eventually broke up, laughing.
It was one in the morning and time for snacks. Elizabeth accepted Matt’s loan of a T-shirt and snuck across the lawn to her back door. A few moments later, she emerged with an arm full of cookies and chips. Running around in the middle of the night half-naked made them both feel like teenagers again.
“Did your Mom catch you?” Matt asked with mock alarm.
She giggled. “I never had this much fun when I was a kid.”
They sat on the couch, eating cookies and watching the baby monitor.
“You look cold,” he said, pulling an afghan from the back of the couch and wrapping it around her.
She looked at him with a soft smile and doe eyes. “How can you be this sweet and still single?”
He shook his head, then brightened. “I’m glad I’m still single. Otherwise, I couldn’t be here with you.”
“Aw,” she said, “you’re going to earn another reward.”
“I’d settle for a couple of those chocolate chip cookies,” he said.
She held the bag of cookies at arm’s length away from him. “Yeah? Tough. What are you going to do?”
He fell atop her and began tickling, both howling with laughter. When he stopped, he dropped his head and kissed her gently. “Should we get you home so you don’t freak out your Mom?”
She sighed. “Probably.” She petted his hair and said, “This has been the best night I can remember.”
Chapter 6: Meet the Boyfriend
Millie was already sitting at the kitchen table when Elizabeth came downstairs for breakfast. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat by her mother.
Millie said, “You were out late with the Mitchell boy.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You know I’m forty, Mom, right?”
“I know what’s going on,” Millie said. “I’m old, not dead.”
“OK, Mom, I’ll bite. What’s going on,” said Elizabeth.
Millie shrugged. “You slept with him. Then you snuck back into the house in the middle of the night so that I wouldn’t know.”
She pursed her lips, sighed, and said, “Yeah. That’s what’s going on. We didn’t want to freak you out.”
“Well, it’s not very nice,” said Millie.
“For god’s sake, Mom–”
“It’s not very nice to sleep with a man and not even make him breakfast in the morning. You know he has nothing in the house to eat. Why didn’t you invite him to breakfast?” Millie then crossed her arms and waited.
Elizabeth’s mouth hung open momentarily, then she said, “That’s an excellent point.” She sat frozen for a moment.
Millie said, “Well, go on. Get him. It’s time for breakfast.”
Elizabeth threw up her hands, slipped on her shoes, and walked out.
Mark met her at his back door. “Elizabeth? Something wrong?”
“What are you doing right now?” She asked.
“I was going to get some groceries, get gas for the mower, and run some errands,” he said.
“Mom knows,” she blurted.
Mark put his hand over his mouth. “Oh, no! Shotgun wedding?”
“Christ! What is it with you two?” She said, exasperated. “She’s not mad about that. She’s mad I didn’t invite you to breakfast afterward, and she knew you had no food in the house.”
He stood straighter. “Huh,” he said. “That’s very thoughtful. I can fuck her daughter and get breakfast. I accept.”
She slugged his arm, then smiled, then kissed him. Looking him up and down, she said, “Put on some clean clothes. Now hurry up.”
He snickered, nodded, and said, “I’ll be right over. Thank you.”
They kissed again, and Elizabeth returned to her kitchen. Millie was standing in the doorway.
“He’s a fine young man,” said Millie.
Elizabeth dug through the refrigerator for eggs and sausage. “He’s been back a day, Mom. How would you know that?”
Millie moved back to her seat at the table. “When you went to college, I spent time with our young neighbor. Did you know he mowed our lawn for years and wouldn’t take a penny? He helped your father stack firewood every fall, too. He was a good kid but always went his own way.”
Elizabeth put the skillet on the stove and turned to her mother. “I didn’t know.”
“That’s because he was just a Freshman when you were a big-deal Senior,” she said. “He was beneath you somehow, yet he worshiped the ground you walked on.”
“Still does, I think,” said Elizabeth in a whisper.
“Well,” said Millie, “he’s a grown-ass man now. So if he still adores you, it’s not some adolescent crush. It’s something else.”
Elizabeth stood motionless before the stove, smiling.
“Make breakfast, Elizabeth,” said Millie. “Christ, you kids will send me to an early grave.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s too late for that, Mom.”
Mark, wearing a fresh shirt, appeared at the back door. “Hello?”
“Come on in,” shouted Millie.
Mark entered and approached Millie, who was sipping coffee at the table. “Hello, Mrs. Larsen,” and he bent to kiss her on the cheek.
“Good morning, dear,” Millie replied. “Please sit. Elizabeth is finishing up. Would you like some OJ?”
“Yes, thank you,” he said.
When everyone was served, Elizabeth took her seat. She looked at Mark and said, “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said with a grin.
Millie took a breath. “You two want to see each other, which I think is great. You don’t need to sneak around behind my back. You’re adults.”
There were sheepish looks from both of them.
Millie rolled her eyes. “Young love. God help us. My friend Ginny is coming over for cribbage later and staying for dinner. I don’t need constant tending. I can manage fine on my own for a few hours. You two should go to dinner, see a movie, or something. Just get out for a while. As long as I can shout at that contraption you brought, I don’t need Elizabeth here overnight.” She began eating her breakfast but couldn’t resist one last salvo, delivered sotto voce. “I was young once, too. I’m not an idiot.”
“Dinner and a movie sounds fun. Would you like to go?” Mark said.
Elizabeth shrugged. “I’ll need to check my calendar.” She paused. “OK, looks like I’m free.”
Millie gave Elizabeth a look, and Mark stuck his tongue out when Millie wasn’t looking in his direction.
When breakfast finished, Mark asked, “Can I help clean up?”
“I’ll handle this,” said Millie. “Elizabeth? You should help Mark get his groceries. Men are always hopeless in grocery stores.” Then Millie gave Mark a wink.
Mark looked at Elizabeth and said, “She’s not wrong.”
He wore an easy smile as they traversed the aisles, and while he wasn’t precisely hopeless, he was unfamiliar with the layout of this grocery store. Elizabeth’s help was appreciated.
“Are we going to talk about your Mom?” He asked.
She looked defeated. “Can we not?”
He laughed. “Come on. She did us a big favor, and we can see each other without causing any ripples. That’s a good thing. And so long as the baby monitor works, you can stay over.” He stopped the cart, and he looked into her eyes. “And I want you to stay over.”
She smiled and kissed him right in the middle of the frozen food section.
Chapter 7: The Unexpected
The plan was dinner and a movie. Like so many plans in business, it lasted almost through the first round of drinks. Mark’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” he said. “I have to take this.”
She watched his face scrunch up as he accepted the call.
“Hello, George. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Elizabeth could only hear Mark’s side of the conversation and watch Mark’s facial expression cycle through concern, annoyance, frustration, sympathy, and acceptance.
“I thought you had a handle on this,” he said. “What do you want from me?” Mark held his head at the temples. “I’ll be on the first flight out.”
When he disconnected, he placed his phone on the table face down and looked at Elizabeth.
“Bad news?” She asked.
“For our evening, yes,” he replied. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“Go where?”
He sighed. “San Francisco.” He waited for a beat for that to sink in. “When I sold the company, one big client had not closed on a deal. It means a lot of money for the company and me. The new owner wants me to return and help get it done. I need to leave tonight.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” She asked.
“The meeting is tomorrow. I need to be on the flight tonight to make it,” he said. “Sorry. Give me another minute.”
He placed another call. “Rose? Mark Mitchell. I’m fine. George needs me in the office tomorrow.” He pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment. “I know. But that’s the way it is. Get me a first-class ticket to SFO for tonight and ground transportation while I’m in town. I don’t want to drive. Make George get me a driver.” He listened. “That’s right, make George pay through the nose. And get me a room at a hotel by the office so I can freshen up.” There was more speaking Elizabeth couldn’t hear. “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The ride home was quiet. Mark glanced at her as the miles ticked by. “Disappointed?” He asked.
She nodded.
“Me, too,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few days. This should be the end of this kind of nonsense.”
She tried to smile but failed.
When they arrived home, he walked her to his deck and sat with her for a moment. Elizabeth looked flustered.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’d rather be here, but I feel left behind.” She threw her head back. “Karma.”
“Karma?” He asked, looking very confused.
Frowning, she said, “Mom told me how much you helped them over the years: mowing lawns, stacking wood, painting, and cleaning the gutters so Dad didn’t have to climb a ladder. I went off to college, and you were left behind. I’m starting to understand how that must have felt.”
“I did those things because I enjoyed helping and because your parents were always appreciative. And, yes, I did feel left behind, but that wasn’t your fault. This isn’t that. I’m going to be gone a few days, and I’m coming back,” he said.
“I hate feeling needy,” she said, and she pulled a cigarette from her purse and lit it. “Shit. Just when I think things are going OK, something always happens.”
Mark looked over her shoulder to her mother’s house. “Um, Elizabeth?”
She took another deep drag and nodded. Then she closed her eyes. “My Mom is watching through the window, isn’t she?”
“Yup,” said Mark, then shouted, “Hello, Mrs. Larsen.”
Millie shook her head and then vacated the window.
“Shit shit shit,” said Elizabeth.
Mark shrugged. “Well, you might as well enjoy your cigarette, she knows. But the good news is that you no longer need to hide it from her.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Oh, you’re a big help.”
“Kiss me,” he said. “I need to pack.”
They stood, embraced, and kissed. “I’ll see you in a few days,” he said.
Elizabeth finished her smoke and came in through the back door. Her mother met her in the kitchen with two iced teas on the table.
“I’m sure there’s a story,” Millie said. “So tell it.”
Elizabeth sat on Mark’s deck smoking while she checked her phone. He had texted her flight information, and she was refreshing her screen to watch it depart. When his plane was in the air, she felt completely alone.
She both hated her cigarettes and wanted another one. They were a reminder of betrayal, a failed marriage, a home filled with hate, and an empty womb. The last was most decidedly not her fault, or at least not completely. The pangs of inadequacy punched her in the darkness. Had she been so naïve as to believe he was faithful all those years? No, of course not. But she chose to ignore the signs, the late-night calls, the last-minute trips, and the mysteries of their finances. Her life was comfortable. She had sold out and had paid the price for it.
Her mother was right to ask all those questions. Why Mark, and why now? What was it about him that made her fall so hard? Was it just that he accepted her fully, as she was, without doubt or hesitation? Or was there something more? If Mark has made her feel worthwhile again, restored her confidence, and shown her a path to happiness, why does she continue to lean on the cigarettes?
Elizabeth lit another, feeling filthy for it. She hated them so much when she started, but she hated Stephen more. Watching him cringe with every puff, complain of the smell and the full ashtrays, and even the film on the windows felt like a victory. She pointed out that his card games and cigars with friends did damage, too, but those blows never seemed to land. The more helpless she felt, the more she smoked.
Mark’s flight had now left North Carolina and aimed west. She stubbed out her cigarette, swore it would be her last, and knew that was a lie.
Chapter 8: The Two Larsens
Millie Larsen had a bad spell last year, but her health has improved significantly. Elizabeth’s arrival after her divorce gave her purpose and a renewed sense of belonging. But as Millie’s health improved, she needed far less care than Elizabeth could provide. She really wasn’t needed anymore, and that thought hollowed her out.
Sunshine from the window fell onto her small desk, a holdover from her high school days. The room was a time capsule of her life, a moment frozen in time as though the last twenty years never happened. Dust motes danced in the light, silvery and gray, while she lay there, her mind a blank, with only the sound of her mother descending the stairs breaking the spell.
Millie was in the kitchen when Elizabeth appeared.
“Sit,” said Millie.
Elizabeth began to protest, but her mother raised her eyebrows, a signal from childhood that she would not be repeating herself. Elizabeth sat.
With a spatula in hand, Millie spoke. “I thought a lot about our conversation last night. I wish you would have told me your marriage was so awful.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth, but no words came.
“I know,” said Millie, “you were embarrassed. That’s nonsense, of course, but understandable.”
Elizabeth could only nod.
“When you came to help me a year ago, I was in a bad way,” Millie said. “I needed the help and appreciate everything you did for me. But you don’t seem to understand that I’m better now. I’ve dropped hints that I don’t need constant attention, but they’ve fallen on deaf ears.”
“Mom–”
“Hush! This is how I see it: you came here right after your husband dumped you. It made you feel needed again, but more importantly, it meant you didn’t need to think about your divorce. So, two things went wrong here. One: You became the parent taking care of me. And two: you never took time to grieve your loss.”
“Nobody died,” said Elizabeth with more than a little snark in her voice.
Millie put her hands on her hips. “Loss can be many things. Your marriage ended, as did your innocence. That bastard was more cruel to you than I could have imagined. It’s hard enough to trust people, but once you’ve been kicked in the teeth, you never quite trust the same way again. One of the things that made you such a wonderful girl is your ability to see the good in people. That part of you got banged up in all this.”
Elizabeth hung her head.
Millie paused for a moment and watched her daughter. There was a sniffle but nothing more.
“So, things are going to change around here,” said Millie, continuing her monologue. “I’m officially retaking my role as the mother. I thank you for all you did. I needed help from you when I was sick, but you patched me up.”
There were nods from Elizabeth but no eye contact.
“Second, and this one hurts my soul. You have lost your way,” said Millie. “You’re afraid you’re not worthy of a man’s love, that you’ll just make another mistake, and that it’s too late to have a family of your own.”
“Christ, Mom!” Shouted Elizabeth.
“This is a day for hard truths,” said Millie. “The problem here is your confidence has been shattered. You latched on to Mark because he valued you, but you’ll never keep him until you value you.”
Elizabeth blinked, parsing her mother’s words.
Millie sat next to her daughter. “I love you. And to me, the stars will always rise and set in your eyes. But you have to love yourself again, or you’ll never be happy, even if Mark comes back and sweeps you off your feet. Maybe take baby steps first. Mark sees the wonderful person you are. Maybe you should believe him.”
It was too much to hope Mark would take the meeting and hop on the next flight back to North Carolina. It had been three days since the aborted dinner and not a word since. Elizabeth stood in the kitchen gazing out the window to Mark’s deck and driveway, wishing for his car to appear, but her wish was not granted.
Millie checked on her, but after several rounds of advice were dispensed about being patient, she kept her counsel to herself. The young people would need to work this out on their own.
The day for “hard truths” had hit hard, but Elizabeth accepted one thing from it: she had not grieved the loss of her marriage. The time for hurled accusations and bile had passed. Stephen could no longer hear her words or see her rage. He had a new family with a wife and two children. He had moved on. It was time for her to process what had happened and move on, too.
Chapter 9: The Return
Elizabeth returned from an errand to find Mark’s new car in his driveway. She ran to his deck and knocked on the back door. Just as she was about to give up on the idea, Mark appeared wearing only running shorts and drying his hair with a towel. He slid open the door with a grin.
“Hello, you,” he said. “Come in.”
She stepped through and stood before him. “You didn’t call or even text,” she said.
“Um, yeah, I’m sorry,” said Mark. “I’m not good about stuff like that.”
She whacked him on the arm. “Not good about stuff like that? What the hell does that mean? What was I supposed to think? You running back to San Francisco like that, ghosting me, not a word, and me sitting here like an idiot school girl by the phone.”
Mark stood gripping the towel draped around his neck, a look of contrition on his face as he hung his head. “Time sort of got away from me,” he said. “It’s not an excuse. That was shitty of me. I kept thinking, ‘Just one more errand,’ and I’ll go home. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I never wanted to go back to San Francisco. I wanted to come back to the east coast, North Carolina, and–” He took a deep breath. “And to you.”
Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest. “You should have called. I’ve been sitting here thinking I was an idiot, just some old fool that threw herself at a man in a moment of weakness.”
He sighed, released the towel, and held his arms out. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. I was busy every moment, but I never stopped thinking of you.” He stepped forward and brought her into an embrace.
She pounded her fists on his chest. “Right,” she said. “Some used-up old frumpy bitch that lives with her mother, some old pathetic neighbor girl. Bullshit.” She was crying now, the pounding slowed, and she stopped struggling.
Mark carefully pulled her closer, laying his head on hers and rubbing her back. “I missed you,” he said in a whisper.
“Not enough to call,” she said through her tears.
“I promise to make it up to you,” he said, pulling her to him and holding her tight.
After a time, her crying stopped, and she wrapped her arms around Mark’s back, holding him.
“Baby?” Said Mark.
“Mmmm.”
“What’s it mean: frumpy?” He said.
Despite her best efforts not to, she snickered and used a fist to gently hit his back one last time. Then they both began laughing. He released her from the embrace and bent to kiss her.
“I’m going to get dressed,” he said. “We have a busy day.”
“We?” She said, looking confused.
“All of us,” he replied. “Go make sure Millie is dressed and ready for travel. She’s coming, too.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Why is Mom going?”
“This concerns her, too,” he said. “I’ll explain on the way.” Then he shivered. “It’s chilly in here. I need to get dressed. Meet me by my car in a half-hour.”
She threw up her hands. “OK,” she said, “more mysteries.”
The three of them arrived at a large estate about thirty minutes away. A stone wall surrounded the large property, with well-tended landscaping and healthy trees scattered throughout, providing shade. Mark followed the circular driveway to the front entrance, where a well-dress woman waited. When they stepped out, the woman greeted them.
“Hello,” she said, “you must be Mr. Mitchell. I’m Margret Mills.”
“Call me Mark, please, and this is Elizabeth and her mother Millie Larsen.”
“My pleasure,” she said. “Please call me Margret. Shall we begin?”
Margret walked through the double doors in the foyer and began her spiel.
Mark interrupted. “I’m so sorry, but could we begin with the mother-in-law suite?”
Taken aback, the realtor said, “Yes, of course, if you like,” and she walked to the back of the large house.
After passing through a breezeway with bright windows on the walls and doors on each end, they arrived at something akin to a home within a home. The breezeway led to a spacious living room with a kitchen and a three-season porch in the distance. A door to an attached garage painted red and a spiral staircase of light oak led to the second-floor bedrooms accented the large space.
Millie broke from the group and traversed the periphery, wall by wall, window by window until she had circled through the kitchen and back again to the group.
Dazed, Millie said, “What a lovely home! The view from that sunroom must be amazing.”
“It is,” assured Margret, “and it’s usable nearly year-round.”
“Would you be comfortable living here?” Asked Mark.
Millie guffawed. “I could never afford a place like this,” she said.
Mark shrugged. “I’m not going to charge you rent, Mrs. Larsen.”
“What?” Said Millie and Elizabeth simultaneously.
Mark nodded to Margret and said, “I’ll take it for the amount I offered. I’ll call my lawyer, and he’ll handle everything. I’d like to close as soon as possible. Since we’re paying cash, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
“No,” the realtor said as she stood just a smidgen taller. “Thank you, Mr. Mitchell.” Turning to the Larsen women, she said, “It was lovely meeting you. I think you’ll be very happy here.” With that, Margret Mills slipped out. Once you get to ‘yes,’ don’t give people a chance to change their minds.
Elizabeth was first to speak. “What just happened?”
Mark looked sheepish, shrugged, and said, “Surprise?”
“Did you just buy this house?” Asked Millie.
Catching his breath, Mark said. “I did. Mrs. Larsen, this can be your home if you want it.” Turning to Elizabeth, he said, “I know this is sudden, but I had a lot of time to think. I’ve waited my whole life for someone like you. Here you are. I know you’ve been through some stuff. I can’t begin to imagine the hurt you’ve suffered. And you can take as much time deciding as you need. Elizabeth, marry me. Live with me in this house. Let’s have a kid or two. I’ve postponed happiness for too long. I want you in my life. Please think about it.”
Silence fell over the room, with Elizabeth frozen and Mark waiting for any kind of response. Finally, Millie poked a stubby finger into Elizabeth’s arm and made a motion with her hands, meaning, “Well?”
Elizabeth, stunned, said, “Are you sure?”
Millie rolled her eyes.
“This sure,” said Mark, and he dropped to one knee and held up a ring.
Chapter 10: A Fresh Start
The three of them shopped for furniture for the next few weeks. Mark still worked around his mother’s house, mowed both lawns, mended fences, painted and cleaned, and kept his mother informed on his progress.
Elizabeth helped him at every turn, getting just as dirty and happy as Mark. She paused once to see her future husband. He worked hard and took pride in all he did. This was the kind of man she had been looking for, not some pompous ass impressed with himself who ordered around underlings to do the work for him. If only it had been this clear ten years ago.
There came a day when Elizabeth was to break out a new dial of birth control pills. Mark put his hand over hers. “I don’t think we need those, do you?”
She became wide-eyed. “You want to start trying now? I thought you’d want to be newlyweds for a while.”
He shrugged. “If you want to wait, that’s fine. But let’s have kids soon.”
She slipped the pills back into a drawer. Then she held his hand and walked him downstairs to the kitchen.
Millie said, “What are you two up to?”
“Mom,” said Elizabeth, “why don’t you go furniture shopping.”
Millie stretched, leaning back in her chair, and said, “Oh, no, dear. I’m kind of tired.”
“Then go antiquing,” said Elizabeth sharply, rolling her eyes.
“Oh!” Said Millie. “Yes, I was going to go antiquing. You two have a nice evening. I’m going to go visit Ginny afterward. I won’t be home until late.”
With that, Millie stood, winked so that only Elizabeth could see, and collected her things. The two lovebirds went back upstairs.
“What was that about?” Said Mark.
“Privacy,” she said. “Subtle, huh.”
“I feel like we just kicked your college roommate out of your dorm room for the night,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, “and for the same reason.”
He kissed her, then whispered in her ear, “I don’t mind things being messy.”
“I’m not messy yet,” she said, her hand on his belt.
She kissed him, then sunk to her knees, pulling hard on the belt and roughly unbuttoning his jeans. When the zipper fell, she dragged jeans and boxers to the floor in a single sharp pull. His cock bobbed before her face as he stepped out of his clothes.
“We’re going to make babies, you and me,” she said to the growing flesh. “And you’re going to help,” she whispered to the ball sack as she hefted his nuts. She rolled them gently as she sunk her mouth onto his cock.
Mark threw his head back and moaned. “Fuck,” he said. He dropped his head again to watch her jacking his cock, spinning her fist on his shaft, and slobbering loudly to keep it moist. Though she was fully dressed, he watched her tits thinking, “This is a trophy wife blowjob.”
She pulled off his shaft long enough to look up, smile, and whisper, “fuck my mouth.”
With one hand on his balls and the other on his ass, encouraging him to thrust, begging for that mouthful of cock, she felt him slide his prick to the back of her throat and withdraw, riding on her tongue, head teased by her teeth and lips. With each cycle, he brought his cock head to her throat before withdrawing again.
Then she bobbed her head on each thrust, driving his cock deep into her throat. Both hands now find themselves on his ass, pulling, begging, demanding that each thrust bottom out with her lips brushing against pubic hair, her tongue licking his ball sack.
He held her head, worried it would be too much, but she hummed and pulled on his ass harder. He fucked her skull, his balls banging into her chin, boiling, burning, yearning for release.
“I’m going to cum!” He said.
If anything, the declaration made her pull harder, suck him deeper, and bob faster. When she felt the first jet, she backed off, grabbed his cock with one hand and his ball sack with the other, and jacked him hard, sucking, swallowing, humming, and licking.
When he had finished, she pushed him onto the bed and flung herself atop him, kissing him deeply.
“I want to have your babies,” she said. “You are so fucking hot!”
He kissed her and ran his fingers through her hair, his other hand running from the middle of her back to her ass. He said, “I am very glad your mother likes antiquing,” before kissing her again.
When she finally let him up, they carefully undressed each other and climbed into the small bed.
“Another fantasy come true,” she asked, looking at the posters in her room.
He shook his head. “It never dawned on me to dream of fucking you in your own room,” he said.
She became serious. “Mark–”
“Uh oh,” he said.
She put a finger across his lips. “I’m serious. You asked me to marry you. I want to say yes, but I’m nervous. Will you talk to me about it?”
He nodded. “Ask anything,” he said.
“We knew each other as kids, but we hardly know each other as adults. I asked if you were sure. Are you?”
He propped himself on an elbow and said, “Answer me honestly. Are you still the same person deep down that you were growing up? I know we’ve both grown and changed, and we both have some miles on us from the things we’ve gone through, but you are still the level-headed, hard-working, smart, cheerful, funny, beautiful person you were when we were kids. I believe that. I think I see that. Am I wrong?”
Her eyes slid off him to a neutral corner of the room. “Mom said I’ve lost confidence in myself. She’s probably right. I’m still screwed up from my divorce. I want to believe everything you said, but there’s a dark spot in me that doubts. Does that make sense?”
“More than you know,” he said. “But do you believe me when I tell you I can see past it? I know you need time to heal. You’ve gone through monstrous things. But I want to be there for you. I want to always be there for you.”
She nodded. “Mom said I’ve not taken time to grieve my loss, the death of my marriage, and maybe my self-esteem. I let that bastard walk all over me. God, am I really that big of a sell-out?”
He pulled her chin so she would look into his eyes. “You tried to save your marriage by looking the other way. For some wives, that works. It didn’t for you. Even if you’d stopped things sooner, you’d still be here grieving. Marriage isn’t just a promise to another person; it’s a promise to yourself. Maybe you feel like you broke a promise to yourself. Breaking those kinds of promises hurt worse than any other.”
“I’m ashamed of who I became,” she said. “I was a five-star bitch, angry, vindictive, just short of ‘keying his car’ kind of pissed off. I fucking lost my mind.”
“You are not a sell-out, and you’re not a bitch. Any animal or person hurt the way you were would lash out. Anyway,” he said with a smile, “you being a bad bitch is kind of hot.”
“Yeah?” She said with a grin.
“Absolutely fucking hot,” he said, nodding. “Fucking making me hard thinking about it hot.”
She got out of bed, went to her purse, then stood before a window and opened it. Bending over at the waist, she waggled her ass at him and lit a cigarette. “This bad bitch needs a hard cock,” she said.
“Fuck,” he said, climbing out of bed and walking behind her. “That’s an amazing ass.”
She took a deep drag and said, “I need cock. Fuck me,” followed by another cheek-hollowing drag.
Mark didn’t need to be asked twice. He rubbed his cock through her pussy lips to get it wet, then slipped it in, grabbing her ass and thrusting.
Her knees buckled slightly, and she sucked down another drag before muttering, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Mark’s balls banged against the bottom of her pussy with each thrust. He didn’t want to last. He wanted to flood her, to bury himself deep inside her, to use her like the bad bitch she was pretending to be.
Elizabeth continued to smoke, dragging hard and exhaling loudly as Mark pounded her ass, banging his hips into her globes.
He slowed for a moment to lean to the side and see her beautiful tits dangling below her. Fuck, doggy style fucking needs a mirror! Then he resumed his assault, quickening his pace, grunting with each thrust.
With her cigarette nearly down to the filter, Mark buried himself deep one last time and held true, grunting loudly as his balls ached and emptied. Elizabeth took one last drag and flipped the spent butt out the window, exhaling triumphantly.
He slipped out of her pussy and backed away. Elizabeth stood and stretched.
“I’m going to need to be in better shape for that kind of action,” she said, stepping to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “You fuck hard, stud. I like it.”
“You are still a goddess,” he said.
“A frumpy one,” she replied with a chuckle.
“I love you,” said Mark, and he kissed her. “Now I owe you two orgasms.”
“Actually,” she said, “just one. I’ve never cum doggy-style before, but today was a first. I’m surprised I didn’t soak you.”
“Hmmm,” he hummed, “maybe we’ll have to try again later.”
She pulled back. “Are you sure you’re OK with the cigarettes?”
He scowled. “Yes and no. I don’t like seeing you hurt yourself, but, fuck, you are so sexy when you do that bad bitch thing. So, yeah, this will be a longer conversation. And when you’re pregnant, which I hope you will be soon, they’re off limits. I know you don’t want to be a smoker, and I don’t want you to be either, but we have some time. OK?”
She nodded and smiled. “OK.” Then she rubbed a finger through her cunt and brought it to her nose. “You smell good. Let’s have some iced tea and make babies.”
The End