Dead Write Ch. 11

* This is a repost of an old romance story with a fresh edit. *

Chapter 11

‘What have I done?’ reverberated in Sherry’s mind as they began the three-hour drive to their honeymoon hideaway. After all, she didn’t really know Sam -- not well, not long. She’d been single for over seven years, now suddenly she was a wife and a mother with all the responsibilities that go with those titles. The desire to run and hide from this relational revolution continued to build. An old expression, “Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it”, became glaringly appropriate. But the gold band on her finger marked the finality of her choice.

Glancing at Sam’s tight jaw, she wondered if he was having second thoughts.

After hours of counseling, Pastor Simmons grudgingly agreed to marry them, saying, “I love you both and, although this is extremely rushed, I think you two are a good match.”

There was one other person who thought the marriage was a mega-super idea -- seven-year-old Christopher. Sherry smiled, remembering how shy he acted after the brief ceremony. He’d hugged her softly before they left, and said, “Bye…Mom.”

Her heart nearly burst. Sweeping him into her arms, she’d kissed his cheeks and said, “I’m so lucky to have you for a son.”

When Sam laid a hand on her knee, Sherry’s thoughts switched back to the present. He smiled reassuringly, and asked, “How’s my wife?”

“A little scared,” she said. Then added, “Husband,” shy as any new bride. The word felt foreign on her lips, but his touch made her body tingle with great expectations.

Placing his arm around her shoulders, he said, “We certainly have jumped into the deep end of the pool, haven’t we?”

His compassion gave momentary peace. She rested her head on his shoulder, and thought, ‘I’m not the only one whose life has changed forever. We’re in this together.’

“Sherry, I feel like I’ve broken my promise to you.”

“What promise was that?”

“I told you I wouldn’t put any pressure on you. Now look what I’ve done. I’ve pressured you into marrying me.”

From the quick glances, Sherry could tell that Sam was trying to read her expression, looking for evidence of concern. So she frowned to tease him, and said, “Actually Sam, you promised you weren’t going to pressure me for sex. You didn’t say anything about marriage. Technically you’re off the hook.” She gave him the crinkled nose, cutesy face, and added, “Just don’t plan on gettin’ any for a while.”

“Oh Lord, what have I done!” he moaned, and banged his head on the steering wheel.

Patting his knee, she said, “You’ve made your bed, Mister. Now you have to lie in it.”

“You’ll at least lie in it with me, won’t you?” he asked, making his brown eyes blue.

Sliding her palm up the inside of his thigh, over his groin and back, she answered, “You can count on it,” and winked. The truck cab became abruptly hot. The knowledge that she could caress him freely without feeling sinful was a delightful revelation.

“I love being married to you,” said Sam, as his hand left her shoulders to rub her inner thigh.

She snuggled in.

Then he added, “so far.”

Sherry pinched his side in retaliation. The playfulness lightened her mood.

As the miles passed, they fell into an easy pattern of what’s next conversation -- Chris, friends, family, a new house, work. Time clicked away sweetly domestic with a tantalizing sexual undercurrent.

During a quiet period, Sherry wondered, ‘How do you keep a marriage on fire?’ Glancing at her husband, she thought, ‘Sam must know. He’s been there. I hope my inexperience doesn’t frustrate him.’

Turning sideways, she leaned her chin on his shoulder, studied his profile, traced her fingers through the gray hair and tickled his ear.

He smiled. The creases deepened at the corner of his eye.

She remembered how his jaw clenched and the muscles flexed in his cheek when he was serious. It’s the little things you notice when you’re in love that become an almost extrasensory bond. She understood how he seemed to read her emotions so easily, having been married a long time. Women, who are good friends, probably have similar body language. ‘This is a man who wants to know my every detail.’ A tingle ran up her spine as she thought, ‘and will use it to keep us happy.’

The passing landscape changed from field to forest. Green mountains with granite peaks loomed ahead, while the air through the windows wafted a cool pine scent.

“Tell me again where we’re going?”

“An old friend of mine from high school, Jeff Bingham, inherited this place from his parents. He lives in Texas now, and only uses it a few times a year, a couple of weeks in the summer and hunting season. A realtor rents it for him the rest of the time. I gave the guy a call, and found out no one’s booked it for this week. I told him we’d like to rent it, if it wasn’t too short notice. Then Jeff called me back and said he’s letting us use it no charge, as a wedding gift.”

“That’s kind of him.”

“Yup, he’s a good guy.” Handing her a map, he said, “Pilot to navigator. These side roads are coming up fast. We’re looking for Bear Paw Lane. It should be on the right, in about seven miles.”

Referencing each intersection, the distraction of finding their way preoccupied them for a while.

“Slow down, Sam.” Sherry pointed at a passing dirt road. “That was Panther Lane. Bear Paw should be next.”

After another mile, a path that looked like a rutted wagon trail from an old Western appeared. ‘Bear Paw Lane’, scarcely readable on a hand painted plank nailed to a tree marked the turn off. Shifting into low gear, Sam negotiated the narrow culvert, and they proceeded slowly through the dark forest. The truck crawled forward, swaying side to side through puddles and over rocks. A patch of light grew larger, until they broke out into a panoramic view of a sparkling lake tucked in between bald mountains.

“Wow, this is beautiful.”

“I haven’t been here in years. It’s nice to know it hasn’t been spoiled.”

They drove along a bluff, passing a few side roads.

“Here we are.” Sam pulled into the driveway marked ‘Bingham’ and stopped alongside an A-frame log cabin, snug between the pines. Needles carpeted the ground. A breeze whispered over head. An expansive deck wrapped around the cabin’s side and disappeared in front. The sun was setting behind them, making the view crystal clear.

“Glimmer Lake.” Sam smiled, and hugged her sideways. “An appropriate name, huh?”

“Perfect.” Sherry grinned back, awed by the grandeur of nature and the promise of its physical delights.

“Let’s check out the accommodations.” They ran hand in hand onto the front deck and marveled at the blue water shimmering against the green forest. Twenty feet below floated a dock with an overturned rowboat at their disposal. Turning to look at the cabin, the front was almost entirely glass. The loft had a small, private deck, accessed from the room.

Sam walked to the cabin. His baggy shorts revealed strong legs, and they flexed with each step. Broad shoulders stretched the tee shirt, as a muscular arm bent to put a hand in his pocket. Sam unlocked the door, pushed it open and turned toward her with the grin that made her heart pound. His eyes wandered over her, and she knew what was on his mind. To have and to hold, she was all Sam’s now.

“Mrs. Colton.”

“Yes, Mr. Colton.”

“Come here, please. We must uphold tradition.”

Her brain made a cerebral fist pump and thought, “YES!” as she sauntered in his general direction.

Sam scooped her up and carried the blushing bride across the threshold. Inside, they kissed.

After a long connection, he grinned down at her, and said, “Mmm, corny but fun,” and proceeded to tour the ground floor with her still in his arms.

“You may put me down now, Husband. I want to tire you out, but not this way.”

“Wow, I like the sound of that!” But he continued to cradle his bride.

She floated through the kitchen, the bathroom and finally into the living room. The large, foldout couch in front of the window became her landing pad.

Upon touchdown, Sam tried to disembark. But Sherry hoped for some post-flight hospitality, and clung to his neck. “What’s your hurry, Husband?” Then pulled him down into a persuasive kiss.

With his brow raised in question, Sam asked, “Is it time to stop and smell the roses?” while his hands slid under and massage her lower back. “Stop and smell the roses, that can be our secret code for making love, Sherry. Since you’re a gardener, it’s perfect.” He sniffed her face. Then, snuffling like the Labrador she had as a child, he tickled her ear.

She tipped her head to cover it, and laughed, “Stop it!”

“But you’re the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen. I must sniff you,” he said, tickling the other ear with air and sound. His hands slipped further up her back and fiddled with the bra clasp.

The release of elastic tension along with lips nuzzling her neck fired her senses. She closed her eyes, and reveled in the attention. Firm hands pushed up her shirt, until the cool room air washed over her breasts. Sam’s hot lips landed on her stomach. She played with his silky hair, and watched him stare lustily at her nipple. It hardened with anticipation. ‘What power he has over me.’

“I see a rosebud,” said Sam, and teased his nose against the turgid nub, inhaling. Gently, his lips touched the tip as if it would break, and then suddenly vacuumed it in, sending sparkles of sensations to her clit.

She pulled him tight against it, and sighed, “Oh, Sam, I love you.”

He switched breasts, and while he watered and buzzed around the other budding nipple, his hands worked apart the button on her shorts. The zipper opened.

“God, you’re coordinated,” laughed Sherry.

He sat up and grinned. “It’s a gift,” he said, pulling her shorts and panties down below the knees as she lifted her hips in a team effort.

Sam knelt on the floor at her waist.

Watching his fingers toy with her nipple and his nose play through her pubic hair, Sherry wondered if love could ever feel better than right now. She traced her fingernails along his forearm that lead to her breast, encouraging more, more, more.

Kissing her abdomen, he said, “I smell nectar,” and then felt his fingers spread her petals.

Blocked from sight by Sam’s head on her tummy, both his hands were now at work between her legs. She could feel their tender manipulations-- stroke, probe, widen, tease -- and something wonderful grew.

“I’ve found a blossom in full bloom.” His voice, deep with emotion, rumbled vibrations through her. “It’s glistening with a moisture that’s,” she felt a long finger swipe pleasurably between her legs, and arched in response. She heard Sam smack his lip, “sweet. Mmm,mmm, good.”

“Sam?” Sherry wanted to touch him, return some of the affection, so she pulled on his shirttail, trying to get him to move within a reachable distance.

“Leave me alone. I’m busy gardening,” then two fingers were planted inside, and her hands settled for massaging his scalp while her lips moaned, “Oh, Sam. That’s so good.”

He turned to smile, and said, “Wife, you’re a beautiful flower. I love you.” Then his lips sucked in a nipple, his left fingers rolled the other and his right fingers seesawed into her, while the thumb plucked her clitoris.

“This isn’t fair,” Sherry moaned, pulling up his shirt to rub his back in time with rising passion.

After a wet slurp, Sam released the nipple to say, “All’s fair in love and marriage, Wife,” and then resumed mouth watering her bud.

This generous love was too much, the unbalanced affection so special, she couldn’t hold back. She didn’t want to. The old fear of rejection was gone. The fear of disappointing him disintegrated by the insistence of the selfless caress. A volcanic release erupted around his fingers. The sound of her own high pitched squeal seemed a manifestation of ventriloquism, so far removed was her physical coming from her emotional control. Never before had she felt so free to indulge in a sexual release.

Kisses and words like “beautiful” cushioned the float down from the pinnacle.

Pleasantly buzzed on the orgasmic rush, she faintly heard, “You rest your petals and stems, Rose. I’m going to start bringing our stuff in. We may want to eat or get dressed at some point,” followed by a kiss and a sudden coolness.

As comprehension returned, Sherry lay spent, and just enjoyed the view through the window.

A short while later, Sam appeared at the window, holding a large blue cooler, smiling in at her, before moving toward the door. There was a thump when the chest was set down, a scurry of footsteps, then once again he stood at the glass, this time with his nose and hands pressed against it. His mouth made a silent “Wow” before he went back to the truck for another load.

Sherry studied herself to see what Sam ogled through the window. She lay on her back with her shirt and bra bunched under her chin and her shorts and panties tangled around her ankles.

‘If he likes looking at me so much, I should give him a good show.’

Sitting up, she pulled the tee shirt off and threw both shirt and bra on the floor. When she looked back, Sam already stood at the window with his mouth open and another cooler in hand. Quickly she spread her arms across the back of the couch, then curled her legs up beside her with the shorts still bunched, and eyed him seductively.

He grinned appreciatively, before leaving to come inside. Sherry watched him stumble over the threshold, drop the cooler and run back to the window for a second look.

An “I love you,” came muffled through the glass, before he left for the truck.

Sam was gone longer this trip. Sherry had time to remove the rest of her clothes, then lay down with her cheek on the back of her hands to look out the window, wistfully. She bent her legs up at the knees and crossed her ankles to contract her hamstrings and derriere. ‘This’ll get’em,’ she thought.

Sam finally returned. The look on his face, and the bulge in his shorts were unmistakable signs of being gotten to.

Sherry laughed out loud when she noticed what he had taken from the truck. A toothbrush in one hand and a pair of socks in the other, unloading would take some time. While her audience watched, she pulled on her panties and slipped on her tee-shirt. The show was over… not really, just the first act.

Sam met her in the narrow kitchen. As she bent down to transfer food from the cooler to the refrigerator, he rubbed her bottom. “Nice view.”

Ignoring the fondle as best she could, Sherry continued to work, and said, “Bring in the rest, and I’ll organize. When we’re done, it’ll be time to stop and smell the roses again. I think this flower needs some fertilizer.”

Arms suddenly snaked around her waist and lifted. The old sense of panic began to surge, but with a little effort she squashed it, realizing Sam was only being playful.

After setting her on the counter, he stood between her legs, and said, “I like it when you tease me,” then leaned in for a kiss. It was long and filled with promise.

Sherry hugged him, and wrapped her legs around to grind against him. She changed her mind. “Take me now,” she whispered. She wanted it bad. “Show me how to make a baby.”

“Time to work,” said Sam, and backed away.

But she clung to him like a Koala to a Eucalyptus tree, letting go only when he headed toward the truck. “Okay, Boss.”

A retreating, “I’m not your boss. We’re partners.” reached her ears.

It was not a very sexy comeback. Right now, she didn’t want a partner. She wanted a sex crazed Neanderthal. “What’s come over me?” Obviously, she was physically and emotionally overheated. The lake caught her eye, and she thought it might feel good to put out the fire temporarily. Sherry ran down the plank stairs to the dock. Other than a few distant boats no one was in sight, so she stripped off her shirt and panties and dove in. The cool liquid enveloped her flesh and extracted some of the fever. She swam a few circles and headed for the dock.

Above, on the deck, Sam smiled down.

‘I’ll show him.’

Summoning the new, carefree spirit of her inner wild-child, Sherry splashed onto the dock, waved, and then carried her meager garments up the stairs. The fire she’d doused in the lake rekindled in her husband’s gaze when she reached the top.

“Silly me, I forgot to take a towel.”

Sam stepped forward, and said, “Allow me,” and wrapped her in his arms.

Her flesh heated rapidly against his hard contour. “Dry me off upstairs, Honey,” said Sherry, making her crinkled nose cutesy face, while pulling him by the hand. This was a new and powerful emotion that drove her. Suddenly, she understood Sam’s past desire to take her forcefully. It wasn’t a violent domination. It was just simple lust for the one you love. She thought, ‘If I was big enough he’d be over my shoulder right now.’ Instead, she had to coax, tease, and seduce him. God, she wanted him. Why was he slowing down?

“What’s your hurry? We have the whole week, you know,” said Sam, anchored at the bottom of the stairs. The crooked grin hinted he was purposefully stalling, toying with her.

“I know! We only have a week. So get your ass up there, Husband.”

“Oh, so you’re playing the marital rights card, huh?”

She took his hand and dragged it down across her cheek, shoulder, and breast. When it rested between her legs she humped it slowly, closed her eyes, and begged, “Please, I want your cock in me.” The words made her blush. But why? She was within her rights.

Dropping the hand, Sherry pushed up his shirt, pulled it over his head, and used it to mop up the few beads of water left on her torso. Then leaned into his chest and kissed each nipple before heading upstairs alone. “Close the front door before you come up, Sam. We need to consummate this marriage now, if you really love me.”

“Uh-oh. That sounded like an ultimatum.”

At the top of the stairs, she turned, tried to make a seductive pose, and said, “No, I think it will just be the ultimate.”

The loft room was Spartan in size. A dresser and a bed filled the space. The view was breathtaking. A skylight overhead and the glass doors out to the balcony opened up the room to include all of nature.

The bed was already made. No preparation was required. Poking her head outside, she checked left and right. The coast was clear. Sherry stepped naked out onto the four-foot porch to soak in the wild splendor. Life had become wonderful. Her body throbbed with newfound joy.

After ten minutes she wondered what was taking Sam so long. Old insecurities are hard to put aside. She leaned against the rail, and began to think Sam was having cold feet. Unlike her, he’d been happily married. So maybe his expectations were much higher. Maybe this wasn’t his ultimate thrill. Maybe she’d already disappointed him.

She ran back to the stairs and looked down, expecting to meet him halfway, but Sam was nowhere in sight. Dejected, Sherry went back, sat on the foot of the bed and stared out the window. She’d tried her best to be sexy and failed horribly. ‘Eventually, he’ll despise me too.’ A teardrop rolled down and jumped from her chin.

“Are you ready, Wife?”

Sam’s voice made her jump. As she wiped away her tears, he strode into the room, holding an open bottle of champagne and two glasses. He wore a towel and nothing else. “I had to do a quick clean up for my ultimate honeymoon consum…” His smile disappeared when he saw her face. “What’s the matter, Sweetheart?”

In a heartbeat Sherry was in his arms and feeling like a fool. “Nothings the matter, Sam. I’m just happy, that’s all,” she said in a quivery voice.

“I’m glad to hear it, because I’ve never been happier, and you’d better feel the same or I’ll be pissed,” then he laughed, poured bubbly and handed her a goblet. “A toast,” he said, and raised his glass. “May all that God taught us so far become a foundation we build a wonderful future upon.”