Charity Begins Next Door: Part 2
Can Two Broken people make something whole, again?
In 2 parts, Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Neighborhood Party
Cathy & John were holding a Christmas Eve open-house
next door; and expecting half of the neighborhood over that evening. They were
a high standard in generosity, for the rest of us neighbors to try to emulate.
I made my appearance, around 8:30
, and stoically accepted the offered condolences which were definitely putting
me in the wrong state of mind. After only half-an-hour I knew I had to get out
of there, even if it did piss off Cathy.
John seemed to catch my mood, and dragged me outdoors to
enjoy a cigar in semi-peace. With a heavily spiked eggnog in hand, and a more
than decent Rocky Patel Decade burning nicely, I was willing to stick it out a
little longer when he headed back indoors.
“I should skin you alive for that little stunt, you know.”
I heard a voice coming from poolside, and headed that way to
face the music. Sandy was sitting there alone, a large, mostly empty glass of
wine at her side.
“I know. I was bad. But I’m done now.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped.
“I just wanted Erica to have a decent Christmas, and wanted
to help you out a little in your effort to sell your house.”
She cackled, and it wasn’t a pretty sound. “You too? You
just barely met me and you’re so damn eager to get me out of the neighborhood.”
Her words surprised me. “Not at all. I’m just trying to
fight back a bit against the unfairness of the world. What are you doing out
here alone, anyway?”
“I can’t stand the way they look at me. Like suicide is
contagious or something. They don’t know what to say; they all avoid me, or
look at me like I was a leper or something.”
“People can be assholes.”
She smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”
I sat beside her and drank my 80 proof eggnog in silence. We
watched a small group come out and start talking while they lit up their cancer
sticks.
“I know you mean well, Alex. But you can stop now, Ok?” she
said softly.
“One last thing.”
“Please. Enough already.”
“Steve called. Everything’s cleared up with the insurance.
You’ll get your check next week.”
She looked at me like I’d grown a third eye, completely
stunned. “Really?”
“Really.”
She finished her wine, gulping it down, then sat back.
“Shit. Six fucking months they drag it out and then suddenly, like that,” she
snapped her fingers, “they’re willing to pay up?”
“Steve’s good.”
She leaned forward and held her head in her hands. After a
few seconds I could see her body was shaking. She was crying, silently.
“I’m sorry it took so long. If I’d been a better neighbor,
we might have taken care of this months ago.”
She sat up abruptly, and I could see the streak of the tears
on her face. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. Just don’t, Ok?”
“Ok.”
I sat awkwardly, while she wiped her eyes and turned away
from me, staring out at the backyard. I leaned over and took her empty glass.
“Can I get you a refill?”
“Yeah. I mean, yes, please. Thanks.”
“Be right back.”
It took a few minutes to navigate the crowd around the bar,
and to endure the late arrivals expressing their sorrow over my “loss”. Like
they know anything about loss. Shit. I was happy to get back outside, away from
the doe-eyed suburban mommy’s pity and their awkward mumbling husbands.
I plopped down next to Sandy. “Jesus. Next time you can make
the booze run.” I told her passing the wine glass over.
She gave me a twisted smile. “You volunteered, remember?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“That’s what you get for being a Good Samaritan.”
“That’s it for me. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”
She chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
My cigar had gone out, and it would have been a shame to
waste it. I ventured into the smoker arena long enough for a light, and
immediately regretted it, catching the sidelong glances they gave each other,
knowing what they were thinking. I didn’t spend a moment there longer then I
had to, hustling back to my solitude and Sandy. The only kindred soul at this
soirée who might feel a tenth of the loss I that was consuming me.
There was one last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t know
how she’d take it. I thought that maybe, just maybe, with one more glass of
wine under her belt, she might acquiesce.
“Sandy?”
“Hmm. I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Are you up
to something again?”
“No. Maybe. Not really. I mean, well, can I show you
something next door?”
She gave me an odd look, which lasted quite a long time.
“Can I bring my wine?”
“Of course. It’ll only take a minute.”
She stood, and followed me out the gate. We walked around
the fence to my driveway and into my backyard. As we crossed my patio she piped
up.
“Just because I’ve had a few drinks, and just because you
did something nice doesn’t mean you’re going to get anywhere with me, I hope
you know.”
Her words slammed into me like a bucket of cold water. I
hadn’t even thought about anything like that. I turned and looked at her. She
didn’t look bad. Not at all. She cleaned up nicely, and even if she was
ridiculously skinny, I could see she was an attractive woman. Funny that I’d
never even noticed. I stood there trying to think of how to reply.
“Jesus, Alex. I’m just teasing you.”
It took me a few seconds to reply. “That was the furthest
thing from my mind.”
“Of course. Believe me. I understand.” Her sardonic reply
was more surprising than the original tease.
Caught without a response, I entered the house and led her
to the living room.
“What did you want to show me?”
I turned on the light in the living room, and moved out of
the way.
“Holy crap!”
I gestured toward the piles of gifts. “They were for my
girls. I don’t know what to do with them.”
“That’s all for your girls?” she asked, looking on in
wonder.
“Yeah. I kind of over do it.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’d like Erica to have them. She doesn’t have to know
they’re from me. They can all be from Santa if you’d like. If you don’t take
them, I… I don’t know what I’ll do with them.”
“It’s too much, Alex. It’s a nice gesture, really. But it’s
too much.”
“Please. No strings. Do it for Erica.”
She stood silent for a while, before she turned to me. “Why?
Why now?”
“I don’t know. Look, they’re just sitting there. I’ll end up
donating them to some charity or something. I’ve got a ton of gifts, and nobody
left to give them too. You’ve got a sweet little girl who has one present under
the tree and could use a bit of joy in her life.”
She wandered around the room, nudging the gifts with her
foot, not answering, taking the occasional sip from her glass. She eventually
wandered back and stood beside me.
She stood quietly for several seconds, apparently pondering
a reply. “It’s not fair,” she finally muttered.
That wasn’t what I’d expected. “No shit. Life’s about as
unfair as I could ever imagine,” I answered honestly. “Good people get hurt for
no apparent reason. Jack-offs seem to glide along easily without a care in the
world. Innocent little girls have their lives cut short meaninglessly.
Good-hearted neighbors have their lives crapped on as if it was some big cosmic
joke.” I could hear my own voice getting louder and more frustrated. “Life’s a
fucking kick in the ass, and every time it looks like something nice might come
out of it, some cosmic comedian pulls the rug out from under you. What kind of
God destroys a family for no good reason? Huh? Answer me that!” I was almost
shouting by the end of my tirade.
“I…I think I need to go home now.” She turned and started
walking away.
I chased after her, “Please, can you take just a few?
Please. It’s killing me to see them here.”
She stumbled a bit, then paused. Without turning she said,
“Bring over what you want around midnight.” Then she slipped out the back door.
I took a few minutes to compose myself after she left. I’d
made a complete ass of myself. Oh well. About par for the course. I decided to
make another short appearance at Cathy’s to at least say my goodnights. My nosy
neighbor caught me the moment I made it in the door. “John told me you were
around, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I ran into Sandy, and we broken people sort of hid out in
your backyard.”
She looked at me quizzically. “I was kind of surprised she
came over. She didn’t say a word about what we did this afternoon.”
“Lucky you. I’ve still got the scars,” I teased. Then I told
her a little about our discussion, including the insurance situation and the
deal with the gifts.
“Thank God. Maybe she can finally stop working 16 hours a
day, and spend some time with her daughter. That’ll be nice. I was wondering
what you were going to do with all those gifts. I was afraid you were going to
make a memorial out of them, leaving them there year after year, until the dust
was an inch thick over them.”
Her words stung a bit. “I’m not that bad.”
“No, you’re not. Although you had me worried there for a
bit. It’s just a hard thing to take. I understand that.”
“I guess it’s not a problem now.”
She smiled. “I guess not. Erica’s a lucky little girl.”
"I don't know if I'd say that, but at least she might
have a nice Christmas."
"I'm glad you came over tonight. A lot of our friends
were worried for you. Your appearance was a nice Christmas gift for them as
well."
"I can't say I really care too much. I know it sounds
harsh, but how they feel isn't really high up there on my list of priorities at
the moment."
"That's Ok. It's still nice that you came."
"I appreciate your inviting me. And for being the
nagging neighborly meddlesome busybody you've been for the last couple of
weeks."
She laughed. "That's the nicest thing anybody's said to
me in a while, and in the nastiest way. I guess you are feeling a little
better."
I sighed. "A little. Although I doubt Christmas will
ever be the same for me again."
She moved in and gave me a hug. "It'll never be the
same. But it may still, someday, be Ok."
I hugged her back, quietly. I doubted it.
Back home, I dressed down to sweats and a t-shirt, torturing
myself a little by watching The Little Drummer Boy, Briana's favorite. Life was
so fucking unfair. My girls were gone. It was Christmas and I was alone. I'd
never, ever, spend another Christmas with Briana and Allora. Never.
An hour later I was at Sandy's back door with three huge
garbage bags full of gifts. It had taken me two trips. I knocked softly and a
few moments later Sandy let me in. She'd gotten rid of her party clothes as
well, answering the door in a plain robe. She looked tired. I guessed that
she'd been waiting up for me.
"Erica?" I asked softly.
"Asleep," she confirmed, taking one of the bags
from me.
Quietly we headed to her front room and started spreading
out the gifts. On each one, I removed the existing tag and she put a new
sticker 'from Santa' on it. She asked me what was in each, but I couldn't
remember all of them. Still, I was able to fill her in on the majority. She
must have had some plan in mind, because she organized them according to my
descriptions of their probable contents, separating them in neat little piles.
After about 15 minutes I looked over and saw her shaking her head.
"What?"
"It's too much."
"That's what my ex said every year. I never got a
complaint from the girls."
She gave me a wry smile. "At least one of us is going
to have a pretty spectacular Christmas."
"Isn't that how it should be?"
I saw her nod, and noticed that her eyes were glistening
again. I decided to leave it alone.
Until those moments, I really hadn't seen Sandy as a woman.
I'd related to her as a person in need. But between her dressing up at the
party, her comments on my patio, and the way she was dressed in just a robe,
I'm almost ashamed to say I was scoping her out.
She was rail thin, with short dark brown hair, almost black.
She wasn't very large on top, but when she was moving around on her hands and
knees, arranging presents, I got a few glimpses inside the top of her robe, and
saw the swelling of very feminine breasts. Her legs were as thin as the rest of
her, but with decent calf definition. Some of her movements were less than
ladylike, and I saw myself peeking up the bottom of her robe, looking at her
pale inner thighs, or glancing at her round rear giving form to her robe.
Her face was cute. Small turned up nose, narrow mouth with
bowed upper lip, and natural eyebrows fuller than was popular, above big brown
eyes. Those eyes were extremely expressive, and somewhat mesmerizing.
I found myself looking at her too often, and she eventually
caught me at it.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," I answered quickly. Trying to cover
myself I explained. "You just look happier than I've seen you until
now."
One corner of her mouth turned up. "I guess for once
you're seeing me when I'm not completely pissed-off at you."
We finished with the gifts and I carefully stood up and
gingerly stepped around the pretty wrapped up presents. I turned and held my
hand out to Sandy while she did her best to maneuver around them without
stepping on any. She almost made it before stumbling at the last minute,
kicking a pile over and falling toward me. I caught her and held her up,
pulling her backward with me until the wall halted my retreat.
She stared up at me, my arms still wrapped under hers,
holding her closer than I intended. Her hair smelled like strawberries.
"I should be furious with you," she said, leaning
into me.
"I know."
I pulled her upright, but she clung to me, pressing against
me.
"We don't need anybody." She sounded angry again.
I shrugged, hard to do while holding a fragile woman in my
arms. "I don't have anybody."
Her look softened. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'll be Ok." I closed my eyes, and
thought once more of my kids. I could feel myself on the verge of losing it
again.
Without warning her lips were on mine, gentle at first. Then
I felt her fingers dig into my skin, and she was kissing me fiercely, her teeth
pressed hard against my lips. I pulled her tightly against my body, opening my
mouth to hers, returning her ardor.
It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She was
clutching at me, kissing me, hugging me, hitting me, scratching me, while I
stood there holding her, absorbing it all. I waited for her to calm down, and
when she didn't I reached down and lifted her by the ass, holding her tight,
while her legs encircled me. She bit my lip hard, and I could taste blood,
while her claws sank into my shoulders.
I could feel the anger and frustration in her, the desire to
strike out somehow at the unfairness of it all. I echoed those feelings,
accepting them, expanding them, and returning them in kind. Yes, I was angry
too. Furious. The taste of my own blood on my lips just served to fuel the
fire.
Like everything else, having her vent her anger on me, while
I was the only one in the world trying to help her was patently unfair. I was
hurting too. I had lost so much more. So very much more. I was tired of being
treated like dirt.
Holding her by the rear in one hand, I grasped her hair from
behind, pulling her hair back making her gasp. I lowered my mouth to her
slender neck and bit her, sucking on her flesh. Both of her hands went to my
head, entangling in my hair, and pulling my face down against her. Her hips
ground against me, while her bare feet beat a tattoo against my back.
Sandy pulled my head back by the hair, and I loosened my
grip on hers. She stared into my eyes, hers flashing with pent up emotions.
"Damn you!" she gasped. She leaned in and pressed
her lips against mine again, still fierce and unrelenting.
I turned and pressed her against the wall, trapping her
there with my body. My hand lowered and slid into her robe, meeting nothing but
bare flesh. I grabbed her breast and squeezed, causing her to moan into my
mouth. Her hands weren't idle and she was pushing the top of my sweats down,
using her feet to push them down in the back. She squeezed a hand between us,
her other wrapped around my shoulders, and I felt her fingers wrap around my
hardness. It was hard to believe how I was responding to her and her tantrum,
but there was no doubt.
I took over, pushing my sweats down, letting them slide down
to my ankles, drawing my boxers with them. I was naked from the waist down and
exposed. Our lips had never separated, and she sucked hungrily on my tongue,
while I tore open her robe, roughly. Like me, she was naked underneath, except
for a pair of loose shorts. She had my cock in her hand, and aimed it at her
moist opening, pushing the leg of her shorts aside. I lowered her, easing into her,
until I was fully sheathed.
She groaned. Her hand now free, she grabbed me by the hair
and tugged back, drawing her lips away. "You bastard," she gasped.
"Bitch," I growled. I pulled my hips back and
thrust into her hard, pushing her into the wall, eliciting another gasp. I felt
my own anger welling up inside of me. I knew I wasn't really angry at her, but
she was the unintended victim of my fury. I slammed my cock into her hard,
grinding against her. Pulling back, I did it again, even harder, doing my best
to push her right through the wall. She gasped as if I'd struck her.
"That's right, fuck me," she whispered harshly.
"Go ahead, fuck me you prick, like everyone else has."
I took her ass cheeks in my hands and pulled her away from
the wall, lifting her up off my cock, before releasing her, letting her weight
impale her on my aching staff. One at a time, I reached my arms under her legs,
her thighs resting on my forearms, my hands gripping her ass cheeks tightly. I
tugged her shorts down in back, exposing her soft butt-flesh, and grabbed her
cheeks tightly digging my fingers in. She linked her fingers behind my neck,
and leaned backward, exposing her upper body to my gaze. Her small breasts had
the most perfect little nipples, hardened for me. I fucked her hard and fast,
while my strength and fury held out.
As my arms grew tired I walked to the living room. She
released each of her arms long enough to let her robe fall, leaving her almost
naked. I lowered her, setting her butt down on the arm of the couch. She let go
of me, leaning backward, lowering her back to the couch. Her hips were now
positioned well above her body, and I pulled her toward me hard, so her lower
back was on the couch arm. I yanked her shorts off and threw them to the side,
staring down at her sexy naked body. I opened her legs wide, slid my cock into
her warm hole and pounded into her, fucking up into her tight opening, while
she moaned so damn sexily. Holding her legs in my hands and lifting them high
and wide, she was effectively immobilized by her own weight resting on her
shoulders. I slid my cock in and out of her, banging away, free to do as I
please.
She lay there, staring up at me, her eyes burning. I didn't want
to look into those condemning orbs. I pulled out, roughly turned her over, her
smooth soft ass raised up by the arm of the couch. I spread her legs and
pierced her again, thrusting deeply on the first stroke, making her pay. I held
her hips tightly and vented my feeling through my hips, hammering away
viciously, fucking her as hard as I could.
Looking between us, I was hypnotized by the sight of my
thickness stretching her, filling her. With each stroke her flesh clung to me,
stretching outward before yielding. I pulled out to the edge, spread her cheeks
with my hands and toyed with her pink little slit, nudging my cock head into
her, watching her opening stretch obscenely wide to take me. I slowed,
squeezing her poor ass cheeks hard while slowly feeding her my cock. The
incredible feeling was overcoming my ire, and I just enjoyed long-stroking her,
making her feel every inch of my length, pushing deeply until I felt resistance
deep inside of her.
I couldn't take much more. I grabbed her hips and leaned
over her, driving into her, filling her. I could feel her moist channel
grasping at me, dragging me to the edge of desire. I looked down and saw she'd
twisted her torso to look back at me.
"Do it."
I slammed my full weight into her, unable to resist the urge
any longer. Gasping, I came inside of her, the release painful in its urgency,
exploding deep within her over and over again. Her legs were flailing, and as I
slowed she relaxed, bent over the arm like a rag doll, lifeless.
She squealed when I lifted her up, spinning her around to
sit on the arm. I took my still hard cock, and forced it back into her, pulling
her against me, until just the edge of her butt was still resting on the couch.
I could see she had tears in her eyes, and wet streaks running down her cheeks.
I slid my arms around her, holding her close, squeezing her frail body. Her
arms slid around my torso and she pressed her face against my chest.
I held her while I felt her body shaking. I felt horrible,
sickened at what I'd done. I'd fucked her viciously, using her, venting my
aggravation and unhappiness on the one person I knew who'd already suffered
enough on her own. I could feel my own eyes welling up.
We held each other, desperately, clutching to anything that
might let us ride out this horrible time in our lives. My hands relaxed as did
the tightness that had been enveloping my body. I caressed her back, feeling
her ribs under the soft skin. I pressed my lips to her hair, kissing her
softly. She was returning my kisses, pressing her lips to my chest and
shoulders, rubbing her hands over the scratches she'd given me earlier.
I realized I was nudging in and out of her, surprised to
find my cock staying hard, eager to continue. I held her, slowly screwing her,
while she sobbed against me.
I massaged her back, nuzzling her hair, kissing her temples.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Don't," she sobbed. "Don't you dare
apologize! Not now. Not ever."
I pushed her head back, and lowered my lips to hers, kissing
her softly. "I won't."
"Good."
She looked up and touched my lip, drawing back a finger red
with my blood. "Oh God! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
"No apologies. Remember?"
She answered by reaching up and kissing my lip. When she
drew back I could see a little red on hers.
I kissed her back, feeling her return it this time, still
moving inside of her. Her legs spread wider, accommodating me. I looked down to
see where I was entering her. When I looked back into her eyes they were
smoldering.
"Take me to bed," she whispered.
"Are you sure?"
"No. Do it anyway."
I stood carefully, my pretty little sister-in-misery still
impaled on my rod. She wrapped her legs around me tightly and clung to me with
both arms. I held her by her sweet little ass and slowly climbed the stairs.
With each step I lifted and lowered her, screwing her along the way.
Nearing the top step she surprised me by giggling.
"What?"
"You're stronger than you look," she said,
softening the words with careful little kisses bestowed across my chest.
"You're light as a feather. I need to feed you."
She smiled wickedly. "A protein oral injection?"
I almost dropped her, and she giggled, "What?"
"You, young lady, have a dirty mind."
I saw a storm flitter across her face, but she shook it off
and smiled. "It's been a long time, Alex. I'm not so good at flirting and
teasing."
"Ditto, beautiful. Bear with me."
She made a little rolling movement of her hips, ending with
my cock completely sheathed within her moistness.
She giggled. "Damn! I can't believe you can just hold
me like this."
I pulled her up and down on my cock a few times, drawing a
quiet gasp out of her. "I could hold you like this forever."
I had cleared the last step and was walking her into her
bedroom.
Once again a flurry of emotions danced across her face,
ending with a smile. "But then how would you ever feed me?"
I reached back and closed the door behind us.
Mischievously, I pulled her high in the air, making her
squeal. She really was as light as a rag doll. I doubted she weighed a hundred
pounds. I held her in my arms like a baby, rocking her. A very sexy baby.
I had one arm under her legs, and the other under her back,
and she turned in my arms, her lips closing around my nipple. I lifted her
shoulder high, then removed the arm under her back, causing her to fall downward.
Not far, since I caught her by the hips, hanging upside down. She gasped, her
legs kicking out, her arms circling my waist. I wrapped an arm around her,
pulling her legs down onto my shoulders, pressing her warm pinkness against my
face.
Her face was down around my waist. She squeezed her legs
tightly around my head, her thighs pressing hard against my ears. "You're
crazy!" she gasped.
"See. I can hold you and still feed you," I
teased, then licked her, my tongue probing her moist slit.
She giggled, and I felt her warm lips engulf the head of my
cock. I grabbed her near the hips, and lowered her a bit, feeling my cock enter
her mouth. I lifted and lowered her a few times, licking her on the upward
movement, filling her mouth on the way back down.
For all my bravado, it was amazingly difficult, and I could
feel my arms trembling from the effort. I held her still, her mouth filled with
my cock, and walked the few remaining steps to the bed.
She was getting more active, sucking me and moving her head
back and forth. It felt incredible. I almost didn't want to put her down. But I
knew if I didn't there was a chance I'd drop her soon. With one last herculean
effort I lifted her up and leaned over depositing her in a squirming ball of
flesh on her mattress.
She spent no time at all sitting up and pulled me onto the
bed. I reached out for her but she pulled away. "Lay down. My turn
now."
I stretched out in the middle of her bed, and watched her
crawl to my waist, move between my legs and look up at me before lowering her
mouth to my pulsating rod. She licked me, examining me, stroking me with her
hands, kissing my cock with her warm, tender lips. Staring into my eyes she
lowered her lips over the purple helmet and took most of my length into her
mouth.
It felt so damned incredible I moaned loudly.
She pulled up and pressed her fingers against her lips.
"Shhh. We don't want to wake anybody."
I mimed zipping my lips closed, barely containing another
groan when she took me in her mouth again.
She sucked me as if she were on a mission. Her hands worked
me just below where her mouth took over. I reached down and brushed her bangs
aside so I could watch her. That was enough encouragement for her to pick up
the pace, pistoning her face onto my stiff pole, gasping when she pressed too
hard.
"Sandy," I started to warn her.
She held out her palm to me, sucking with complete abandon.
I didn't say another word. I let her draw my juices up and out, and moaned
softly when I finally achieved my much needed release, erupting between her
lips.
She was breathing hard through her nose, holding me in her
mouth, taking all I had to offer and gamely swallowing it down. She sucked
softly when I was done shooting, and I could feel the pulses of tightness while
she swallowed repeatedly. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be
concentrating hard on completing her mission.
When my hardness started to whither, she took me in her hand
and stroked me, her mouth tenderly sucking me, carefully tugging on my shaft,
her tongue massaging the tender head. I relaxed on the bed and enjoyed her
attention, concentrating on the amazing feeling around my waist. The idea of
getting hard for her and continuing our play was combining with her devoted
attention, and I finally responded after a few minutes, hardening in her mouth.
That seemed to be a signal to her and she sat up, sucking me
more aggressively, restoring the steel to my cock, until it could stand on its
own, full and ready.
Sandy moved up my body, straddled my waist and slid my
trouser soldier back home. She slowly worked her way up and down my cock until
I was completely sheathed once more. Then she settled all the way down and
stretched. It was beautiful to see, her slender body straining upward, her arms
reaching to the sky, her head leaning back, the curve of her rib cage
accentuated by the hollow of her belly, her perfect little breasts standing out
brave and eager, the pretty pink tips showing hard little caps.
After a few moments in that pose she relaxed with a sigh,
settling back down and leaning forward until her hands were braced against my
chest.
"Thanks for the meal," she said with a teasing
smile.
"You are amazing," I confessed.
She gave me a sad little smile. "It's nice to hear
someone say that. It's been a long, long time."
I reached out for her and she slid down to my chest, while I
wrapped her in my arms. "That's a shame. You are so beautiful."
"You don't have to say that," she said into my
shoulder.
"But you are." I held her, pushing with my hips,
slowly screwing her while I held her.
"I'm not. I know it. It's Ok."
I reached down and lifted her face so I could lean forward
and kiss her.
It was a long tender kiss, and afterwards I just held her. I
kept my hips moving gently, not wanting to lose the contact with her, staying
hard and filling her.
"Just hold me a bit, Ok?"
"As long as you'll let me." I assured her, and I
engulfed her in my arms, clutching her as if I'd never let her go.
I could feel her trembling, her arms holding me tightly. Her
back was rising and lowering spasmodically, and I heard the tiny gasp of her
crying against me.
I didn't try to quiet her or comfort her. I just held her,
raining kisses down onto the top of her head, holding her tightly, and easing
my cock back and forth into her.
We spent several long minutes like that, until she slowly
relaxed and her death grip on me eased. I loosened my own grip, allowing my
hands free rein in their exploration of her body, stroking her, fondling her,
holding her tight little butt in my hands and pushing up into her. She slowly
responded, pushing back against my strokes, her tits pressing into my chest.
I pulled her tightly to my body, rose up on one arm and
rolled over, lifting her body off the bed, and settling it down below me. On
top of her now, I let go, raising my torso the length of my arms and thrusting
into her with long slow strokes.
She looked so small and vulnerable underneath me. I leaned
down and kissed her, and she grabbed my head and kissed me back eagerly. She
finally let me go and I resumed fucking her, happy to be right where I was. I
gazed down at her, wondering how I'd failed to notice how pretty she was right
from the start.
"Stop staring."
"I can't help it. You are so beautiful. I want to
memorize everything about you."
"I'm not too skinny?" she asked.
"Nothing a few more meals can't fix," I teased.
I fucked her in silence for a bit, then rose up to pound her
more thoroughly, opening her legs up for better access. She pulled her legs
back, holding her own ankles nearly parallel with her head.
I spread my legs and straightened them, raising my hips high
before plunging down into her. She gasped and I smiled, pummeling her from
above, fucking her fast and hard, her wide open pussy screaming out to be
filled.
For the first time that night I felt her responding deeply,
shivering. She released her feet and clutched her legs behind her knees, her
shins bracketing her pretty face.
I rose up to my knees, leaning over and pushing down on the
back of her legs, screwing her as fast as I could, feeling the need to cum
growing in me.
"Harder," she gasped, "harder."
I slowed down just a bit and put some more weight behind my
strokes, pulling her forward to meet my onslaught. She was gasping
continuously, her toes curling up and her feet stretching out. I watched in
delight as her head tilted back and her eyes rolled back into her head, while
she came on my cock, her entire body quivering, her chest blushing bright red.
Just as she appeared to be settling back down, gasping hard,
I grabbed her thighs and fucked her as fast as I could, feeling my own need
peaking. I couldn't hold back any longer and buried myself deep inside of her,
shooting hard, my hips jerking forward of their own accord, filling her.
Sandy cried out, releasing her legs which kicked out and trembled
while she came with me.
I stretched out over her, while her legs slowly wrapped
around me. Her eyes were large, staring at me in ego-soothing wonder. I kissed
her softly.
"You are amazing," I told her.
She blushed. "I...I never...not like that," she
murmured.
I was exhausted, from head to toe, and my legs and arms were
trembling from my exertion. The front of my hips were sore from pounding
against her, and my cock felt like it had been run through a wringer. I rolled off
of her, lying on my back, breathing hard. She rolled over and leaned her upper
body into mine. I reached around her, holding her close.
There was so much I wanted to say, but I didn't know how, or
where to start. Instead I just kissed the top of her head while she held me. I
reached across with my opposite hand and stroked her side before allowing my
hand to settle over her breast, holding it gently, my fingers idly toying with
her nipple. She moved closer, lifting her leg over mine, laying half on top of
me. It allowed my arm holding her to wander, touching her, feeling her. I could
feel the wetness of her crotch pressing into my hip, cold and wet.
I closed my eyes, my arm stretched across her back, my hand
holding the warm flesh of her ass cheek. Her breathing was slow and steady, her
arm thrown across my chest. I pressed my lips against her hair one last time,
leaned back and relished holding this sweet, sexy, troubled woman.
I woke abruptly, confused. I was alone in a strange bed, the
covers pulled up to my chin. Daylight was streaming in the window, and I sat
up, disoriented. It took a few seconds for me to recall the previous evening,
and I looked around for Sandy. I started to get out of bed, and realized I was
naked, my clothes were still somewhere downstairs. I pulled the covers over my
waist, and looked around for something to cover up with, before spotting my
clothing from the night before folded on a chair nearby.
I pulled on my shorts and ducked into the bathroom for a
much needed leak. I splashed some water on my face and borrowed her brush to
run it through my wild hair. I took a swig of mouthwash and did my best to look
partially human before heading back to the bedroom. I was pulling on my sweats
when Sandy appeared with a cup of coffee. It smelled delicious.
She smiled and passed it to me. She was dressed in pajamas,
and had clearly showered and cleaned up. Her hair was still moist. "Hurry
up. There's a little girl downstairs almost bursting with the need to open her
presents."
I took a sip of the coffee, hot and strong, then passed it
back to her for a second while I pulled on my shirt. I straightened it out and
retrieved my coffee for another sip.
She was watching me intently, a sad little smile on her
face.
I started to speak but she cut me off.
"No. Let's not talk about it right now. It was
something we both needed, but it doesn't have to mean anything. It just
happened. I don't regret it. Right now we need to go downstairs."
I moved to her and grabbed her chin. I saw she was nervous
and wondered if she'd practiced that little speech. I leaned over and kissed
her softly, continuing until she responded.
"I just want to say you are amazing. Really."
"So you keep saying," she teased.
"What is Erica going to think?"
"I told her you had a sleepover. She probably has a
good idea what that means, kids are so precocious these days, but she seemed
alright with it."
"Shit. I feel like a jerk, spoiling her Christmas with
you."
She hit me, her little fist landing solidly on my chest,
almost making me spill my coffee. "Shut up. It's because of you that she's
having a Christmas worth mentioning at all."
She turned and headed downstairs, and I had to pull my eyes
away from her cute little butt, before I had a physical response that would be
almost too much to bear. I realized she was walking tentatively, and wondered
if she was as sore as I was this morning. Probably. Maybe more so.
We headed straight for the living room, and sat back on the
couch about a foot apart while Erica waited for us, standing beside the
presents almost shaking. She watched her mother anxiously, glancing my way long
enough for a quick smile. When her mother nodded she dove into the presents
grabbing the closest and tearing it open.
She oohed and aahed over each new gift, while the pile of
unwrapped ones grew smaller and an ever growing field of toys gradually
overtook the room.
She shrieked and jumped up and down when she opened the iPod
touch, pulling off the $50 iTunes gift certificate. She'd been pretty quiet up
until then but she climbed over to her mother and gave her a big hug.
"He knew, Momma, he knew!" she shrieked in joy,
stopping her present opening to crack open the iPod box and pull it out,
looking it over, holding it reverently in her hands.
I felt a warm hand settle onto mine, giving a soft squeeze.
I turned my wrist and held her hand in mine, interlocking our fingers. I looked
over to Sandy, and saw the tears in her eyes. With a sniffle she carefully
brushed them away.
As usual, the new clothing got short shrift, being tossed
into a growing pile, but she did look each one over, holding it up against her
body, asking her mother's opinion on several before moving on.
I listened to Sandy laugh at her daughter's antics, and
thought it was the most beautiful sound I had heard in ages.
Erica was about halfway through the gifts. I watched her
reach for a big box, and I gave her mother's hand a squeeze. "Maybe that
one should be last," I whispered.
"Erica, darling, that one's from Mr. Reed. Why don't
you open it last?"
Erica looked up, her surprise matching my own. She moved it
to the side and continued her quest to eliminate the pile of wrapped presents.
The small purse with five $10 bills was another big hit, as were
the rollerblades, each calling for another shriek and a visit to her mother's
lap, bringing forth more giggles and laughter from the woman beside me. Sandy
was smiling hugely, taking the wrapping paper from her daughter and filling a
garbage bag with it as we went.
I was torn. Each gift I'd so carefully picked out for my
girls was disappearing. I couldn't help but think about how I should be
spending my Christmas, if I hadn't received such a kick in the teeth from fate.
A couple of times I felt myself tearing up, my breath catching in my chest.
Sandy moved closer, her leg pressed against mine, holding my hand in both of
hers, tightly, in her lap.
Then I would see the joy on young Erica's face, and I'd wipe
the tears away, taking a deep breath, knowing that it was what my daughter's
would have wanted. Their hearts had been as big as the world.
I felt Sandy's head lean into my shoulder, and I gave her
hand another squeeze.
Finally the presents ran out. There were two gifts
remaining. The one that had been there on that first day, which seemed so long
ago but had only been three days earlier, and the big one.
She looked over at us, then starting peeling away the paper
off of her mother's present. There was a book sized jewelry box inside, and she
opened it shrieking. "Grandma's necklace?" she asked.
"You always liked it," Sandy said.
Erica came over and sat between her mother's legs, lifting
her hair up out of the way so her mother could attach the chain behind her
neck. I could now see it was an old-fashioned locket and Erica was clutching at
it like she'd never let it go. Sandy finally got the chain latched, and gave
her a little shove.
Erica stood up and ran to the mirror, looking at herself.
She came and stood in front of us, striking several poses. It was so damned
cute. I couldn't help but laugh.
That got Sandy's attention, and she giggled as well,
cuddling up next to me and pulling my arm around her shoulders.
We watched Erica go to the last big box, glancing back at us
as if waiting for permission.
"Go on," I teased, "you can't stop now!"
She grabbed the edge of the wrapping paper, and tore into
it. She ripped large chunks of paper off, tossing them toward her mother,
before suddenly coming to a complete stop. She screamed out, stood up and
danced in place. I'd never seen anybody so excited. She bent over and tore the
paper away roughly exposing the PS3 and the piles of games taped to the top.
"Mom! Mom! It's a PS3!" she cried out, bending
over and lifting the box, twirling around with it, before stumbling and
dropping it to the floor.
Sandy laughed, "Careful! You don't want to break it
before you get a chance to use it."
Erica scrambled across the coffee table between us and
launched herself into my lap. She gave me a huge hug, squeezing me so hard I
thought she might break something.
I felt her breath against my ear. "Thank you,
Santa." I felt her soft lips press against my cheek, bringing a tear to my
eye.
I hugged her to me. "I hope you enjoy your
present." I could feel the tears welling up, threatening to overflow, and
I clung to her for a few seconds. "Go on now, open it up."
She jumped up and started tearing at the box, peeling off
the games, instantly separating them into piles. So much like her mother. I
felt Sandy shifting on the couch next to me, and I turned toward her, just as
her arms wrapped around me. She kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you."
I hugged her. "I should be thanking you. I never
thought I could enjoy Christmas again."
She smiled. "That would be horrible," she said
softly, "if Santa couldn't enjoy Christmas."
I thought we were finally done, but Erica went behind the
tree and returned with two gifts wrapped in newspaper comics. She gave her
mother one, and gave me the other.
Sandy and I looked at each other, then she opened her gift.
Inside was a hand-made ornament, a picture of their little family, Sandy,
Erica, and the missing father, smiling as if everything was perfect in the
world. The picture was framed in popsicle sticks, with pipe-cleaners glued to
it. It was too cute for words.
"If we hang it on the tree, then Daddy can share
Christmas with us from heaven," Erica explained.
I saw Sandy choke up, then give her daughter a big hug.
"It's beautiful."
"Hang it up, mom!" Erica insisted.
Sandy got up and placed it in the middle of the tree,
carefully arranging it so it faced the room. "I love it Erica, thank
you."
Erica was standing in front of me, hopping from foot to
foot. "Your turn," she announced.
I opened the paper carefully, and saw a hand drawn picture,
colored in crayons on some light colored cardboard. It took me a second to
realize what it was. "It's us painting the door, isn't it?"
"Yep. And that's momma, trying to look angry." She
pointed to a stick figure at the side.
It must have taken her a while. The picture was pretty big,
more than a foot tall, and she'd carefully drawn the door in great detail,
coloring it blue, and she had little Christmas decorations all around it. She
was kneeling down painting the bottom, and I had this ridiculously long body,
bent over at the waist, painting the door just above her head.
I pointed to the figure to the side. "If she's angry,
how come she's smiling?" I asked.
Erica laughed. "She's only trying to be angry. She's
really happy. She just isn't allowed to show it. She has to act sad because
Daddy's gone."
I held the picture up, then made a show of hugging it.
"It's my very favorite Christmas present. I'm going to frame it and put it
on my desk."
Erica climbed up on the couch and hugged me. "Will you
hook up my PS3?"
"Of course I will," I told her, returning her hug.
"And I'll start breakfast," Sandy announced. I
looked up, and she was wiping tears from her face again. What a roller-coaster
of emotions.
It only took a few minutes, and we had the game system
hooked up and Erica was debating which game to start with. She barely got it
loaded before we were called over for breakfast.
"Mo-om!" Erica pouted.
"It's not going anywhere. You can play after
breakfast."
It was surrealistic, sitting there at the table, with eggs,
toast and sausage on my plate, and a glass of orange juice at the ready. Erica
had cereal in her bowl and a tall glass of milk. Like a normal family.
I was still stunned by how talkative Erica had become, as
she told us all about her gifts. "Can Taylor come over later and
play?" she asked.
"We'll see," Sandy told her. "It's Christmas,
her parents may want her to stay at home today."
"What are your favorite gifts?" I asked.
She seemed to think about it, and I watched her hand move up
to the locket around her neck. It was cute watching her face scrunch up as she
really thought it over.
"I think it was your sleepover," she finally
announced, catching me off guard and almost making me spit my orange juice
across the table.
Sandy was just as surprised, "Really? Better than the
PS3?" she asked.
Erica nodded vehemently. She looked at me, "Momma's
happy."
I looked over at Sandy, and saw her blushing furiously.
I reached over and tousled Erica's hair. "I'm happy
too. Happier than I thought I could be."
Erica nodded solemnly. "I know. Your girls went to
heaven too. These were their presents, right?"
I nodded. "I knew they'd want you to have them."
She took a bite of her cereal. "Allora was nice. We
made a poster for her in class. I drew an angel."
Hearing her name was tough. Suddenly everything felt wrong.
I should be sitting at a table with her and Briana, listening to them chatter.
Watch them fight over playing with each other's gifts. No chance of that now.
The room was becoming blurry, tears for my lost girls filling my eyes.
"Don't be sad," Erica said, reaching out and
touching my arm. "They're in heaven now, and they get to watch us. They
wouldn't want you to be sad."
I forced myself to smile. "I bet the poster was
beautiful. I wish I could see it."
"Mrs. Viola would probably let me take it home for
you," she said.
"I'd like that."
Erica was eating her cereal as fast as she could, and she
pushed the empty bowl away. "Can I play now?"
Sandy gave her the go ahead, and she made a beeline toward
the TV.
Sandy and I looked at each other. "She's become quite
the chatterbox," I mentioned.
"Thank God," Sandy said, standing up and taking up
the plates. "Let's hope it sticks."
I cleared my own stuff and joined her at the sink. "I
should go home soon."
"I understand," she said softly.
"I have to stop by the in-laws. I promised. But I'd
like to come by later if you don't mind. Maybe we can have dinner
together."
She seemed a little distant. "You don't have to. You've
done enough already."
I put my arms around her, and felt her stiffen. "Don't
tell Erica, but her drawing was only my second favorite Christmas gift."
I felt her relax a bit, and she turned toward me, allowing
me to hug her properly. I leaned down and kissed her softly.
She giggled. "Oh, really?"
"Really. The sleepover was my favorite."
"That gift will have to hold you over for a while.
Another sleepover and I don't think I'd ever be able to walk again. You
beast." Her smile took any sting out of the words.
"No kidding. I'd have to learn to talk with only one
lip."
Her eyes opened wide, and she raised her hand to her mouth.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
I kissed her again. "No apologies, remember."
She smiled. "Alright. Dinner would be nice, but I
didn't have anything special planned."
"Let me take care of the dinner."
She grinned salaciously. "That's right. You did promise
to feed me."
That made me blush.
"As a matter of fact, if you're not in a huge hurry,
maybe you could feed me again, before you have to leave."
I looked over at Erica.
"She'll be fine. You won't be able to tear her away
from those games for hours." She took me by the hand, and drew me over to
the stairs.
Half-an-hour later, I'd fed her, but not before proving to
us both that we fit each other perfectly. It was quiet, and gentle, and just
what I needed to make it clear that the previous night wasn't a one-time
accidental thing.
It's been a year since that first Christmas. Things weren't
always easy between us, we still had sharp edges and wounds that weren't quick
to heal, but we stuck to it.
Any talk of holding Erica back in school ended quickly.
She's an A student, smart as a whip, and even talking about playing volleyball.
Her quiet spell snapped that Christmas.
Within six months I'd moved in with Sandy and Erica, and
we'd become landlords, renting out my two houses, and using our new found
wealth to buy a few foreclosures, renovate them and rent them out as well.
Sandy quit her jobs and was relishing her new real-estate magnate career. Even
if the rentals can be a headache sometimes.
By September we were talking about marriage, and decided to
forgo any big ceremony and flew off to Vegas for a mini-vacation and a quick
wedding. We even conned Cathy and John to join us for a couple of days. Cathy
was our matron of honor. Steve and Darla surprised us by showing up as well. He
insisted that if I was going to put on the noose again willingly, he'd be my
best man. He always was.
We're wrapping Erica's gifts now. I guess overdoing it at
Christmas is one habit I'll never get over. Every once in a while I can't help
but reach over and rub Sandy's belly. Erica's excited by the idea of having a
new baby brother by summer.
Me? I'm excited by our new Christmas tradition. I get to
re-enact our first Christmas sleepover. Sandy's even wearing that silly, ratty
old robe. She's promised never to get rid of it.
Christmas will always be bitter sweet to me, and sometimes I
still get the blues and need some time to myself to think about those little
girls that had their lives cut short so unfairly. I miss them terribly, and
think about them every day.
Christmas will never be the same. But I'm not complaining.
Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales for Literotica
