Mike & Karen Ch. 09

She walked back to the shop she'd left him in, since it was past seven o'clock now and rather dark out. She strolled in through the door and found one of the attendants at the desk. He beamed in delight as he saw her and eagerly asked her to come back and see what had been accomplished.

She was prepared to be impressed, but what she saw took her breath away and she dropped the bags in her hands quite involuntarily. Staring was no longer an act of will, but a compulsion. There was a flush of heat on her cheeks, and she prayed to the Lord above that she wasn't visibly blushing.

Mike towered over her and the tailors, now resplendent in his slate-grey three-piece suit. He was still massive and broad, but the superb fit meant that he didn't look like a bodybuilder ridiculously squeezed into some off-the-rack suit and hoping for the best. The suit was every bit as proportional as his build. The crisp white shirt was enhanced by a dark tie with subtle diamond patterns decorating it. His cognac-coloured shoes and a matching kerchief in his breast pocket completed the ensemble.

They'd even teased his thick, jaw-length blond hair into stylish submission, and it somehow accented the suit perfectly.

He looked down at her and smirked, appearing surprisingly comfortable in his new attire.

"Can we cook, or can we cook?" one of the tailors asked proudly.

"I ... gentlemen, you have outdone yourselves," she said, trying to keep the wonderment out of her voice. "I left you with marble and you've given me a sculpture for the ages."

She slowly walked around him, examining the suit with a trained eye - the fabric was high-quality, let out with subtle, invisible gussets in areas to allow it to hang properly, as a suit should. It neither looked tight, nor did it look like a sack, it just ... fit perfectly.

"How does it move?" she asked.

It took Mike a second to realize that she was talking to him, but once he did, he nodded and rotated his shoulders, arms, hips and legs to a degree. "It moves well. I won't be participating in any full-contact tournaments in it, but I can certainly get from one place to another and socialize easily."

She looked at the tailors pointedly. "I'll need extra shirts, socks, and some more shoes. They needn't be ready today, but maybe later this week?"

"We can do that for you, Miss Gordon," the senior tailor said readily. "What else can we do for tonight?"

"We will settle up, if you please," she said, beginning to open her small clutch. As they began walking toward the register at the front of the shop, she turned to look at Mike and put up a staying finger, looking at him for a few moments. "You ... just stay right here and look fantastic, good sir. I can see you from the front, and Heaven only knows when a perfect scene like this will present itself again."

Mike stayed and waited patiently, watching from a distance as she paid with a credit card. Whatever the amount was she was authorizing, it clearly pleased the store's employees and she didn't even blink. He thought about how wealthy she was, and what that must have been like.

She swished back into the room, beaming an enchanting, genial smile. "Well now, fine sir, shall we?"

"As long as I can begin to somehow reciprocate by carrying all those bags for you," Mike replied with a nod of his head toward her purchases.

"Such a gentleman," she said, placing a hand on her décolletage and looking grateful. "I accept your unexpected but welcome offer."

His older clothes were put into a bag, which also held (well, concealed) his backpack, and she led him out of the shop with an elegant wave and a characteristic 'Ta!' to the employees, and Mike looked up at the dark sky and nodded.

"Yup, it's eight o'clock all right."

"Oh, come now," she chided as she walked alongside him, heading west. "Not much more than a week ago, I saw you shambling through the campus, ripped to shreds and covered in bruises and cuts. Do you mean to tell me that today's exercise was somehow more traumatic and excruciating than that?"

"Are you going to play Bach on your cello for me before the night is out?" he asked. Karen blushed in response, at a loss of words for a moment before recovering.

"Since I have no doubt that you will insist on this reciprocity of yours, did you have anything in mind?" she asked. "I did say you could buy me a drink."

"Yes, you did," he mused, looking around as they walked and finally sighting something. "There we go."

She glanced over where he seemed to be looking. "That club?"

"That very club."

"It ... might be somewhat expensive," she said uncertainly. "I don't want to be an imposition."

He shrugged: "I've seen their prices. I can afford that tonight, with what I have made tutoring. All I said was that I couldn't buy an expensive suit."

She looked up at him for a moment, assessing him and then nodded. "Very well, Mister DeBourne," she said, taking him arm. "You may accompany me to this club."

He smiled and nodded. "This way, Miss Gordon ..."

***

Mike and Karen were sitting in their living room, listening to Vivaldi and reading science periodicals when Alex strode into the room, followed by Alexa. It was still warm enough, despite it being October, that Alex was wearing a black cotton Moroccan shirt and crème-coloured linen pants, while Alexa was wearing a short and sassy blue sundress. Karen looked up and smiled at the pair.

"Has he told you where he's taking you yet, Alli?" she queried.

"Nope, he's being quite annoying that way," Alexa replied, nudging her husband and winking at him.

"Yes, my male won't tell me, either," Karen agreed, tilting her head and Mike, who finally looked up and beamed a smile. "DeBourne males are maddening that way, just so you know."

"Yeah, I'm getting used to it," Alexa agreed. "But there are still perks, I guess."

"C'mon, Alexa," Alex said, waving to his parents and then turning to head out the door. "Places to go."

"I guess we're leaving," Alexa declared, shrugging and turning as her husband disappeared out the door. "We'll see you tonight."

"Try not to get arrested for public indecency, Alli," Karen said.

Alexa paused in the entrance to the living room, looked back her sister and brother-in-law with a wry face, and stuck out her tongue before lifting her skirt and flashing her bare ass at them. She then flounced out the door after her nephew. Karen just blinked as she watched Alexa disappear, rather at a loss for words.

"Well, I'm not spanking her ..." Mike said as he went back to reading his periodical.

***

They walked hand-in-hand along the trail, the ground carpeted with red and gold leaves. Though the deciduous trees were mostly asleep now, the great number of pines and other conifers kept the forest around them green and lovely. The sun was warm, the breeze refreshing.

"I'm so glad this was your plan," Alexa said, smiling at him warmly. "No lie, this was a surprise. I thought we'd be doing something in town or meeting up with Jeanie and Fre. But this, this is a million times better."

"I was hoping you'd be pleased," he replied, squeezing her hand while carrying their picnic basket. "We haven't been back here together since your return."

"Mmmm, it's perfection," she sighed happily, looking around at nature in all its glory. She loved this time of year. "So aside from ravishing me, and taking lots of pictures, what else do we have in mind?"

He grinned and held up the picnic basket. "French wine, late-season peaches, caviar, and maybe some classic French literature to read to you while you lie next to me on a blanket and gaze at an autumn sky ..."

"God, you're so romantic," she almost moaned in bliss, pausing in their walk and turning in to face him, close enough that her breasts pressed to his chest. "It's like you know me inside and out, Alex, to the very core of my being. I have no secrets from you, because you know my heart, perhaps as well as Fre does in some ways. Certainly the important ones."

"High praise indeed ..." he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. She purred and nuzzled into the kiss, content to stay like this forever. But even better moments awaited them just down the way and with a turn off the path. They began walking again, until they reached the place where they pushed through the brush and headed down an incline.

Some minutes later, they reached the bottom of the hill and continued on. He brought her to their spot, the glade where they had married back in the height of summer with the full moon shining down on them. The babbling brook greeted them cheerfully, and they looked around in wonder. It was so different-looking and yet so familiar.

"Our brook, our big rock, some of the bushes," Alexa mused as she stared around. She looked behind them at the way they'd come. The hill they'd descended was actually quite some distance away. "Remember that we were worried that people might see or hear us from the path? We're actually really far in. No chance of seeing us, even with all the trees hibernating."

"So as long as you don't yodel, we'll remain undisturbed, right?" he quipped, making her smirk and wrinkle her nose at him. He put down the basket and pulled out the large, red-and-white checked blanket, laying it on a patch of flat ground for them. As he began removing the other supplies, she sat back on her hands on the blanket, sighing contentedly.

"I can't think of another way I'd rather spend this day," Alexa said, pushing her toes through the cool grass, which had retained its emerald hue. Although half the foliage was now missing from the surrounding trees, it still felt remote and undiscovered to them. For all they knew, no living soul had still even been to this spot before, a natural small clearing in the forest, a glade meant just for them. Aside from the singing of the water, the only sounds were the sighing of the wind in the trees and the calls of autumn birds. "We really should do this more often, Alex."

"I'm good with that," he agreed as he opened the wine bottle, poured some into a picnic glass and handed it to his aunt. "Once the good weather is back next spring, how about once a week if we can manage it?"

"Mmmm, I love the sound of that," Alexa hummed, sipping at her Bordeaux. "A lot of people might think it was gonna get routine and boring, but not me; it would be Heaven on earth. I really hope we can do it."

Alexa relaxed and listened while Alex read poems to her in French, noticing quickly how much his accent had changed in mere months - where he had once spoken fluently but with a decidedly rustic Quebecois accent, he had endeavoured to match the elegant Parisian accent in which his aunt and his mother both spoke. His pronunciation was flawless, his cadence almost perfect. Listening to him transported her.

They paused in the reading and ate some of their food, while consuming more wine. Soon enough, Alexa had shed her sundress, since the day was still warm enough to allow for such a thing, lying naked on the blanket while her husband stared on longingly. She winked and stood up, wiggling over to the running water and shivering as she stepped in. It barely passed her ankles, but it was crystalline and pure. She knelt in it readily and began laving herself with it, smiling for Alex as he took pictures and video of her.

"Why don't you set up your camera to record and then join me?" she asked, running her hands over her wet, glistening breasts. Alex didn't need to be asked twice, and quickly found an excellent spot to record from. He shed his clothes and joined her, kneeling and hugging her from behind. She giggled and leaned back into him.

"I know we're still practicing, but I can't wait until it's perfectly obvious that I'm every bit as in love with you as my sissy is with your dad," she whispered against his cheek between soft kisses. Alex shivered and pulled her back against him, his hands cupping her magnificent breasts. Her nipples were hard beneath his palms as he caressed and rubbed the silken skin. "And I'm loving practicing, I have to say."

"I love it too ..." he murmured as he leaned his head in and kissed her neck, causing her to moan in bliss, one hand reaching behind to rest on the back of his head. They'd just begun, and she was already so turned on! What magic did DeBourne men have that Alex could arouse her just like that?

"Do you want to make love to me like this?" she whispered back to him, her eyes closed, reveling in the feel of his body wrapped around hers. She felt him nod and lifted herself slightly while spreading her legs a little wider. She felt his hard cock move under her toned behind and begin sliding back and forth against her pussylips.

"Mmmm, I'm so wet and horny at the moment that I don't even need foreplay," Alexa breathed, squirming on her husband's lap while facing out. "We've got all day, and all I need right now is you inside me, Alex. Please ..."

Alex wiggled slightly underneath her and she felt his throbbing cockhead press against her clit and then inch down to her pliant lips. His hands were still on her breasts but gripping her hard enough to hold her in place. His strength sent a shivering thrill through her. Then the head pushed through her opening and she sighed as she pushed down against him, taking his cock deep inside.

Alex held her close for several seconds while they just savoured the feeling of being united. Alexa's head hung forward, her long, golden tresses spilling forward, her eyes closed. Heaven. That was all she could think of at this very moment to describe what she felt. He held her in place, the strength of his body making her feel so warm, safe and so very loved.

Alex's hands moved slowly to her hips, steadying her while she began to move up and down on his erect cock, shivering and moaning each time it touched deep inside her. The pace was slow, gentle, allowing them to savour the eternal bond they shared.

Alexa leaned back, turned her head and kissed her husband deeply, pushing her tongue inside his mouth. They gently squirmed against each other, surrounded only by trees and gentle wind as the shallow water tumbled past their legs. Alexa squeezed herself around him each time she sank down onto his thick member.

The couple moved and undulated with a slow but deliberate rhythm that built into an urgency, a need to cum together. She writhed on his lap, kissing him hungrily, her slender fingers tangling in his hair. Alexa whimpered into his mouth, pushing down harder as she felt him swelling inside her. Alex pulled down on her hips, feeling his cockhead press against her cervix, and she squeezed tighter then ever ...

She shivered and wailed into his mouth, her muscles contracting around him fiendishly as he began pumping his thick, pearly cum deep inside her wanton pussy. She shook as she held onto him, and he pulled her tight against his body, needing to feel all of her. His ropes of cum in her molten core sent her mind spinning in pleasure.

The pair sighed and settled contentedly into each other, still joined by his hard, throbbing cock pinned inside her tightness. They whispered to one another and caressed each other's bodies tenderly for several minutes, until she lifted herself off him. Alex stood, picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the blanket, where he laid her down and then got on top of her. They wrapped their arms around one another and kissed lovingly for several minutes. Alexa finally looked up at him and smiled.

"A week without you ..." she said softly, reaching up and caressing his cheek. "It's hard to contemplate."

He nodded in agreement: "If we live another hundred years together, though, we have fifty-two hundred weeks to make up for it, right?"

She smiled dreamily and nodded. "I could stand to be married to you for the next century, I'm pretty sure."

"I'll miss you more than I can say, y'know," Alex said as she parted her legs and he slipped his still-hard cock back inside her.

"Then don't let me go until the last possible moment ..." Alexa sighed as they began making love again.

***

1986 ...

Karen casually observed her escort as they sat inside the club, her drink in her hand. Across the small table, Michael DeBourne loomed large, but seemed to be very much in place, and it wasn't only the suit making it possible. To her considerable surprise, he looked to be totally at ease, not at all fazed by his surroundings. She had been expecting at least some measure of proletarian discomfiture on his part. He'd even ordered a proper drink, instead of a beer.

Up on a small stage at the rear of the room, a sextet of musicians was playing the slow movement of a Mozart string quartet, providing an excellent atmosphere for conversation.

"I have to admit, I was expecting you to look a little more out of your element," she stated, sipping at her martini. "Was I remiss in assuming there were no high-end clubs in Kapuskasing?"

"No, you would be right," Mike agreed. "But every once in a while, people come up from civilization and teach manners courses and so on. When I was younger, my parents had saved up enough to make sure I got to attend some."

"Your parents impress me, I won't lie," Karen remarked, wondering how much it had cost them to give their behemoth son this training. She'd only met them once before, soon after the semester had started, but she had been instantly enchanted by them. So why did their eldest have to be so difficult? "They're probably the the most likeable people I have ever met."

"Well, that's good to hear," he chuckled. "They make decency look easy, don't they?"

"Am I to infer that it's not for you?" she asked, wondering what he meant.

"Oh, I guess it is, from a strictly upbringing point of view," Mike answered, shrugging. "But the world is black and white for them, which is how it should be if you believe in good and evil. I guess you and I are exposed to shades of grey, which we struggle against. Harder to fight the greys of moral ambiguity."

"There is that," she allowed. "Mostly where my father is concerned, I suppose. My mother is quite the activist."

"I noticed. Your father can't be all bad if your mother loves him as much as she seems to," Mike pointed out. "You and I are both devoted to black and white moral views, ultimately, even if we work through shades of grey."

"So certain of that?" she queried, wondering if she should take offence at his proclamation.

The sextet finished its piece and Karen and Mike paused in their conversation to applaud, along with the other patrons of the club. Then the establishment's sound system began playing a slow and lilting tune of great fame. Mike looked up at the ceiling and smiled.

"The Ball from the Symphonie fantastique," he mused. "Berlioz knocked it out of the park with this one."

"You know your classical composers?" Karen asked, playing her part by raising an eyebrow, but not terribly surprised, in fact, once she thought about it. "I thought you were all about goofy rock and plaid pants."

"Live and learn, princess," he replied, standing. "C'mon, this is a waltz, and it won't do to have the most stately woman in the room not enchanting everyone on the dance floor."

"Oh, I don't know," Karen replied, blushing and looking away. "I'm not dressed for dancing, my skirt's not long enough for a proper waltz."

"And I'm not wearing a tuxedo," he stated, holding out his massive hand. "Now everyone's seen me stand and make an offer; don't make me sit back down."

Somewhat uncertainly, she put her gloved hand in his and allowed him to walk her to the dance floor, with most of the patrons subtly staring. He looked down and smiled as he kept hold of her one hand and placed the other on the small of her back.