"Forever in My Heart" Pt. 02

Sliding the blouse from her shoulders but leaving the cuffs of the blouse still buttoned so that it hung listlessly, restrictively at her wrists he moved to lower the straps of the slip down her arms. He reached behind, undid the clasp of her bra allowing her breasts to emerge and breathe freely. Two perfect pear shaped mounds, soft pink flesh; perhaps a little better than a 'B' cup. He imitated her; he used his hands to cover, then clasp, and then carefully massage each glorious orb.

He reached for the cuffs of her blouse and slowly pulled her wrists back behind her back. Hands confined in the fabric of the blouse, slip and bra he saw her confidence ebb. He thought, 'Was that fear?'

Not quite the harridan after all. He undid the confining cuffs. All three pieces of apparel fell away. Like her, Colton used his hands to smooth over her shoulders, her breasts again, down her arms. He held each wrist and slid a hand over the backs of hers. He went to her waist and pulled her a little closer. He felt her tense up, but she didn't resist.

She, being shorter than his six feet, he tried to force her to lean up for a kiss, but she turned her head. He kissed the side of her neck, then both shoulder blades. He could feel her shiver. He could see the goose flesh rise.

Like her he stepped back. Naked from waist up; she looked superb, almost perfect. All that was left was her knee length dark blue pleated skirt, and whatever garments she might have beneath. He unfastened her belt, found the button and zipper on the side, undid the fastenings, and her skirt, with whispered breath, slid to the floor. She wasn't wearing pantyhose, but a pair of soft white high topped stockings held to her thighs by snugly fitting elastic. There were the faintest traces of cellulite. A few, maybe one or two thin spider veins marred the backs of her knees.

There she was; standing in front of him, completely nude except for a pair of shoes, stockings, and white silk 'tap' panties with a hem cut exactly even with her most secret treasures. He started to remove the panties, she interrupted.

Madeline whispered excitedly, "Kneel down and then pull my panties down. Leave my hose and shoes on."

He knelt, he pulled down the panties. There he knelt; face to face with her flawlessly waxed vagina; clear glistening moisture already oozing from her engorged pouting crease.

"Kiss me," she murmured.

He placed a hand on each of her bare cheeks. He pulled her to his face, his mouth. He leaned in and kissed that most delightful place, her Mons, her Mound of Venus. She was wet, incredibly so. He used his lips and kissed the full length of her vulva, her labia. He felt her shudder as he pressed her clitoris between his lips. He lowered his face and mouth to her perineum, that luscious place between vagina and anus. One more step; he used a finger and thumb and pressed against her anus, that wonderful cavern that so delighted him with the other women he'd had.

Madeline flinched back, "No, not there," she stepped a few inches away. Almost shyly she knelt before him. Hands on her thighs she innocently looked at him, "Do you find me beautiful? Do you want me?"

He earnestly whispered, "You are, and I do."

She placed her hands on his shoulders, "If you want me you can have me, but you must promise that you will love me. I don't mean make love. I mean really love me."

At that precise instant Colton would've promised anything, but he didn't, "I want you. You're perfect, but love? I could come to love you."

Her eyes seemed to glisten; that wasn't the answer she'd come to expect. He'd disrupted her routine. Still holding his shoulders she pressed her head against his neck and whispered, "Take me to bed."

Colton didn't need a second invitation. As he stood he pulled her to her feet. Reaching down behind her knees he lifted her and carried her to the large bed. At bedside, with one hand still holding her, he pulled down the spread and top sheet. She was light like...like a feather, other thoughts intruded, no, don't think of her, of Chelsea. He lowered her on the bed.

~~V~~

Friday Morning:

The sun peeked through the shades, while Madeline still slept he'd called home and checked on Chelsea. He lay back beside and behind Madeline. It had been a great evening, but now it was morning, some of the best sex he'd ever had occurred in the morning. He pressed his chest against her back, his penis, already hard, pushed against and between the backs her upper thighs.

Madeline let out a low groan, more a whisper than anything else, "Colton?"

He murmured back, "Don't move," he slowly pressed more tightly against her, his penis pushing between her cheeks. He noticed she had something on the right side of the back of her shoulder, it was a tattoo. It was faint, very faint like it had been partially removed.

Madeline lifted her right leg. She reached down, found his penis and directed it into her waiting vagina. Chest to back, his right arm over her right shoulder he slowly, carefully but firmly pushed his way in. Like the night before she was hot, wet, and tight. He wondered if she was tight from inexperience or good muscle control. Her, being maybe thirty and a lawyer, he was sure it was the latter. He didn't care; free, no strings sex with Anne Hathaway, besides, she was good, probably not the best he'd had, but damn good, experienced.

Madeline pushed back. By slightly lowering her right leg she was able to increase the pressure, provide more friction, a better presence, and more pleasure. Face down on her pillow, relaxed; she felt his unhurried deliberate push way deep inside her. He lazily pressed in, then easing back he languidly pushed in a little farther. She lay there, relaxed, comfortable, thrilled at his deft manipulation of her body. She felt his breath on her neck; it made her hackles rise.

She sensed more insistent movement as he raised himself on one elbow; he had a thumb at the top of her neck just behind her ear, fingers were entwined in her hair, a strong palm held her in place. She was immobile. A sense of helplessness; hapless powerless passion overwhelmed her. Not fear, but something like fear intruded; he was in so deep, he was so hot, his hands held her in an overpowering grip. Weak, feeble, vulnerable she tried to will herself to not orgasm, but it was no use; she quivered, spasmed, and threw herself backward into his body, into his penis. She was utterly, totally, irrepressibly out of control. All she could do was push back and moan, no more a murmur, "Oh, oh."

Neither lasted all that long. Pushing in, reaching her cervix he poured his essence into her. Madeline, he realized was smaller than many women he'd had; it added to his pleasure. He felt good.

From her perspective there was not just the usual, expected, physical pleasure, there had been more, much more. Even after his last strokes she still felt a tingling, a tingling mixed with pain. He had pushed in so far; it had been so indescribable, it hurt, but it had been delightful! The hot intense flow of his semen had gotten so deep inside her; the wave of nervous, anxious energy that passed through her had been exhilarating. She'd lost all control. It was better than the night before. He was large, larger than many she'd had, but the way they were lying, side by side, chest to back, had made it difficult for him to remain fully inside with every single stroke. Occasionally the head of his erection slid out and punched against her clitoris causing her many new delightful sensations.

She never been so totally aroused. Though she'd had her orgasm she wanted him to just continue on and on. She heard other women talk of being so overwhelmed as to want it to just go on, to be totally controlled, dominated, owned by one man. Of course, that couldn't happen, wouldn't happen, never happen with her, not her...no.

Colton, comfortable and sated, rolled over on his back. Madeline followed; rolling to face him she breathlessly whispered, "You're wonderful."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, "You too."

She leaned up, an emotion she rarely experienced- uncertainty oozed into her being, "You mean what? 'You too?' That was all? Wasn't I good enough?"

He sat on his left elbow. He teased away a frond of her luscious hair. In the harsher light of the morning he could see the crow's feet, the signs of age that crept up on everyone. She was still a beauty, but her age did, albeit faintly, show through. He wondered at her remark, "You're sexy and beautiful Madeline, and we've had a wonderful evening and morning."

Perplexed by her own unexpected insecurity she asked again, "Is that all I get?"

He sat further up. Quickly, before she could protest he rolled her on her stomach. With a swat of his hand he spanked her once, hard. Vigorously he asserted, "I said you're sexy and I meant it. Don't talk to me like that again, if you do I'll have to spank you again."

Madeline rubbed her stinging ass. Nobody, no man, not in a long time had ever done that. No that wasn't so... forget, forget that, for that was the past. Her first reaction was anger, but then...no. She felt...puerile, childish. She peered at him through soft brown eyes, "I'm sorry. I won't."

Colton let out a short laugh, "Good thing, because that's a pretty ass. It's already turning red where my hand marked you. Yeah, I like that. Go ahead challenge me again. Disagree! I'd enjoy spanking that pretty fanny of yours."

Madeline was up and out of bed. She ran to the nearby bureau mirror. The bright red imprint of his hand was clearly visible. It was embarrassing! 'Marked me' he'd said. She felt defenseless. She knew she had to get out of there. Looking at the clock she got almost silly, self-consciously so, "Look at the time. I need to get to the office."

Colton saw the time too. Though he'd given his brother notice, he'd promised he still look after things till Emit found someone. Beside he needed to get home for Chelsea. He nodded, "You're right."

As they got dressed, it was Madeline who broke the silence first, "When can I see you again?" Immediately she felt foolish, stupid; it was the man who was supposed to ask her.

Colton, either unaware or unperturbed, replied, "Leave a text or call."

'A text,' she thought! 'Leave a text? Where was the "please Madeline when can I see you again?" 'Damn,' she thought, 'she'd just had the experience of a lifetime, and all he could muster was leave a text. Had she been that bad, that boring?'

A few minutes later they both emerged from the room and went downstairs; Colton to hurry home and then to Emit's. Madeline to check out and settle up.

For Madeline the drive home left her feeling disquieted. She'd arranged the dinner. She bought the motel room. She given her body away, but he said she should call him. It wasn't supposed to be like that.

~~V~~

Colton got home a little after 10:00 a.m. Both moms were out. He went upstairs; Chelsea was typing something on her damn computer. Impatiently, he stalked over, "What are you doing on the damn..."

Before he got near she'd turned whatever it was off, "Get away will you?"

Concern for her well-being gone he scowled, "I'd just like to know what it is you're doing."

She scowled right back, "Porn if you want to know."

He didn't believe that for a second, "Come on. Tell me. No, show me."

Chelsea punched a key and up popped a man and a woman in the middle of coitus. "There satisfied?"

He looked at the picture. It looked good, then he took control, "What're you looking at that shit for?"

She swiveled around on her chair, "How else am I going to find out? You sure won't show me."

He threw up his hands, "Oh, go to hell," he marched off toward his own room. He needed to change into some jeans to do the stables before he started his job search.

Chelsea hollered after him, "You going let me die a virgin? You've got that bitch's cunt smell on you! You ever going to get a fucking job?"

That did it! He pivoted and stomped right back to her room, "You've got a foul mouth missy!"

"Fuck you. Fuck you! And fuck you!" She yelled back.

He was on her like a rocket, "I'll teach you!"

She didn't fight; she melted in his arms squirming every which way trying to kiss him.

First he held her off, then cupping her head in his hands, he hugged her close, "Damn it Chelsea I've told you..."

She pushed away violently, "So leave me alone."

He stepped back, 'So frail, yet so determined, so, so indomitable,' "Chelsea honey..."

Facing away, looking only at the awful picture on her screen she half sobbed half growled, "Oh go off with your new whore. Leave me here to die in peace, alone, just a poor lonely virgin!"

Nothing for it; he went to get ready to do the horses. He knew Chelsea could be moody; often her most morose moments were a prelude to something worse. He couldn't count on his or her mom's help; he'd always kept an eye out himself. It bothered him; sure he was lazy, but his lassitude always had its feeble rationale. If he was home, or close by he could always be there when Chelsea had one of her attacks. It wasn't just the diabetes either; it was the other... her heart. He pulled on his boots, he couldn't, no he wouldn't let himself think about that. She was sick and not just the diabetes.

He thought about the other woman too, the older one, Madeline. Chelsea was right; she was just one of several. But what was her interest in him? Hell, what did he care; she was a pretty good piece of ass. Not half bad company either.

~~V~~

Once home Madeline took her time getting ready for work. Her last big project had gone smoothly; nothing important had been added to her pallet so she guessed it would be OK to be a little otiose. Hell, Jenny had been assigned to help Mr. Schilling with the new technology project. It would just have been helpful if she'd gotten it, but Mr. Hanlon said he had something else in mind for her. He'd been called out to Pittsburgh but said he'd tell her about it when he got back. That meant she had some time to just fritter around.

At work she slipped off to the washroom to check her appearance; aside from a few strands of well hidden grey and a couple crow's feet she knew she still had it. Nevertheless her horse tamer hadn't acted all that impressed. She was accustomed to a little more appreciation. He seemed OK with what they'd done, but she felt his praise had been kind of elicited, no spontaneity there. What did he expect?

She primped a little more and thought, 'Just for the record, there would never be any anal and no going down. She didn't do men; they did her.' She'd gotten sucked into that game as an undergraduate. They'd really played her, one boy especially. Barely nineteen, half-drunk she'd let them. Frat boys who else; they'd pulled her in a room, tied her hands to a bed and had their fun. They'd kept her there all night. The next day, the next weeks were awful. Everybody knew. The whispers. She'd been at State College then. Dropped out she did. She had to. Left her dad's alma mater and went home. He still hadn't gotten over it. Now when she thought about State College all that came to mind was some head coach like Joe Paterno out on the field receiving tons of accolades while some poor catamite was screaming and crying for help down in the showers. She remembered; she'd screamed and cried and no one helped, some even laughed. It wasn't that she hated men... no she pretty much did.

That Colton; he was an odd one. He'd said he'd gone to State College, but he'd been pretty nice, not like... Well he'd not said anything about Fraternities. She'd have to ask him. Maybe she'd call him later? No, better wait, don't want to seem anxious, men get over-confident, then obnoxious, better to always keep them guessing.

She leaned up and felt where he'd smacked her, funny man, different. No that wasn't right. What he did wasn't so much different; it just seemed different. Why was that she wondered?

~~V~~

Madeline's boss stayed out Monday and Tuesday too. With nothing worthwhile to do by Wednesday she was climbing the walls so she called Colton, "Hello Colton? It's me."

Over the phone he responded, "Who?"

She replied, "It's me, Madeline Westerbrook. Remember your lawyer?"

He half chuckled, he hadn't expected to hear from her again, "Oh hi. I didn't think I'd hear from you again."

That was a new wrinkle for Madeline, she chided, "Why wouldn't I call back? We had fun didn't we?"

Now he was perplexed, "Come on. I shovel horse shit. You're a lawyer."

She changed the subject, "Did you find anything, another job?"

He followed her lead, "My brother Emit found me something. I work in a warehouse in Hagerstown driving a forklift."

Curious she asked, "Much money?"

"Eleven an hour to start, but it'll go to thirteen in eight weeks."

"Hours?" she asked.

"Second shift for now, 4:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m. It was the best pay."

"Any free time?"

"I get the weekends if there's no mandatory overtime."

That caught her off guard, "Mandatory overtime? Can they do that?"

He grunted, "They can if I want to work," he added impatiently, "This a social call or what. I've got to get ready for work."

"Oh," she responded, but thought, 'had he just put her off?' Herself a little impatient, "Look I'm sorry I called. I just thought maybe we could see each other again."

Realizing he'd been a little gruff he changed his tone, "Look I'm sorry. It's been a busy week. Sure I'd love to see you again, but this time it's my treat."

Mollified. She replied, "When's a good time for you?"

"Sunday afternoon, after church."

She thought, 'What's this with church? It wasn't Easter anymore, and Christmas was months away,' she replied, "How about around 3:00 p.m."

"I'll pick you up."

"Where're you taking me?"

He answered, "Don't know yet, but it'll be casual."

"OK bye," she said.

"Bye," was his answer.

As he hung up he considered, 'Where could I take her? All right, Emit's out of town. There's the horses. I'm sure she's ridden before. She can ride Princess. Plus, there's a small office with a bed in the back of the barn. He'd clean it up, just in case.'

Feeling pleased he went to his closet. He wasn't pleased long. "Who was that?" Chelsea bellowed from her room.

He yelled back, "It was Madeline. I'm taking her riding this Sunday."

"Can I come?" asked Chelsea.

He yelled back, "No you can't come!"

She was at his bedroom door, "Colton?"

He turned; she was dressed in a shorty pajama outfit he'd not seen before, kind of lacy and frilly, low cut, it hid nothing, her firm little breasts jutted out insolently. He felt ill at ease, "Where'd you get that?"

"Wendy took me shopping."

Something wasn't right, "Where'd you get the money?"

"I stole it."

He knew she was lying, but he didn't have time to argue, "Go put something on. I've got to get to work. Try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone. Can you do that?"

Chelsea moved just enough that it allowed both shoulders of her top to fall down around her arms. The front was held up only by the tips of her breasts. Leering at him provocatively she softly said, "No can do; got company coming."

He laughed skeptically, "Oh yeah? Who?"

She smiled innocently, "John Girty called, said he wanted to see me. He's got some cocaine for me."

Colton lost all his humor, "That's not funny. I don't want that son-of-a-bitch over here. Don't even joke about that."

She slid her hands inside her virtually transparent panties. Her top slipped from her left boob, "Who's joking?"

He started toward her, "Chelsea."

She stepped forward, "Colton."

Realizing he was being had he returned to his wardrobe to find a pair of clean socks. Under his breath he muttered, "Fuck you Chelsea."

She was at his side; both breasts pressed against him, "Would you? Tonight? I'll wait up."