Esther's Story

Esther laughed lightly but did nothing to stop her playful fingers against his heated skin. "I think that you better start calling me Esther and stop the Ma'am stuff, Sergeant."

In the dim star light she could see the genuine smile that spread across his face. "Yes, Ma'am. I mean Esther. Then you should try Michael." The fingers of one hand came up, lifting her chin until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "You sure about this?"

"I can't remember the last time I was more sure about anything, Ser..." Her fingers gave up tracing the patterns in the warm skin near his heart. They trailed slowly up across his chest to those broad shoulders and further still, entwining together in the soft curls at the back of his neck. "Now that we have the introductions out of the way, shut up and kiss me, Michael." She tugged softly drawing his face closer to hers in the darkness.

"Yes, Ma'am," he started to say. "Shit," he cursed. "Yes, Esther," he corrected as his lips curled into a grin. The grin was quickly whipped from his lips as they found other more pleasurable pursuits.

The kiss was tentative at first. It had been longer than she wanted to admit since she had kissed a man. In that moment, she wondered if she ever really had. Certainly nothing in her limited past had ever felt or tasted as sweet. The Sergeant...Michael's...lips were firm beneath hers, allowing her to control the pace still. Lightly nibbling at the corner of her mouth. It felt almost like the faint tickle of a lady bug crawling up your arm; was it there or wasn't it. But is he or isn't he was not a game that Esther wanted in that moment.

Now that the decision was made she did not want to wade safely into this whirlpool of desire. She had always been the type to dive in, sometimes head first, most definitely a cannon baller, and this night especially.

There might well never be another moment like it and the quiet school teacher be damned for once Esther wanted to become the heroine like Helen of Troy, whose beauty started a war, or perhaps more accurately Pandora, whose magical box could not be shut once opened. This night was most definitely opening Pandora's Box and she did not give a damn.

She jumped; head first. Throwing back the lid, her tongue snaked out, breeching whatever last defenses he might have. Her fingers trailed across those broad shoulders, finger nails scraping lightly across his skin as she put everything into that kiss.

If in her last half a century of life, she had not acquired very much experience as a seductress, she made up for it with determination. She could almost feel the tension strumming through his body. The stiffness with which he held himself back was not the type of stiffness that she was interested in at that moment.

Her lips curled into a secretive smile beneath his. She might not be very experienced but she was very well read. The words and images of thousands of erotic novels and novellas raced through her mind. She picked through each one as she sought the perfect seduction. This was war...and Staff Sergeant Michael O'Malley was about to meet surrender.

A plan began to form in her mind. With a final deep drink from those soft lips, she made a trail of licks and nibbles along his slightly rough jaw line. His fingers tugged softly at her hair as she continued to play down his neck. She sucked softly at the thrumming beat of his pulse she tasted there. It rapid statico spoke volumes, giving her the strength to continue along this path. She outlined his collar bone with feathery kisses until the ridge of firm flesh that divided his chest in half called out to her. Her dark fingers blazed the trail that her lips would follow, drawing soft patterns across the down covered steel. Pectorals shivered beneath their light scraps.

Michael sucked in a sharp breath when her talons raked lower across the ridge of muscles that formed his six packs. Esther stopped her descent for a moment. Her dark brown eyes lifted to meet his steely stare, she whispered, "This is most definitely going places we cannot take back. So Michael, if you want to change your mind, you better do it now." She toyed with him, her words a gentle reminder of his own chivalry even as her fingers moved lower belying their warning.

He held perfectly still beneath her touch, their gazes danced a duo in the darkness. She could see the firm muscles in his jaw flex in the moonlight and for half a breath, her heart was gripped with fear that he might change his mind, might stop this erotic fantasy, might abandon her bed, seeking the refugee of the lumpy couch over her bold caresses.

Then he smiled. "Hell, no, a man only gets to taste heaven once in his life and I ain't missing mine." His fingers began firmer where they tangled into her thick curls. He tried to tug her up, to taste her lips and torture her with his kisses once more.

But Esther was not to be distracted from her battle plan. There was new territory to be conquered and she was determined that this night she would taste all that life had to offer. She quickly won the battle of wills as his tugging upwards soon gave way to moans. Her mouth was hot and dry as she blew softly across the thick, dark curls that covered his belly button. She felt his fingers tighten their hold upon her hair, trembling at her boldness. But it was not enough, bending she kissed and toyed with him there. Her tongue outlining it as her fingers pushed at the elastic waistband of his sweat pants.

"Esther," his voice was deeper than she had ever heard it, except in the thousands of erotic dreams that paled in comparison to this moment.

She pulled the thick barrier away from his skin and allowed her lips and tongue to continue their dangerous games. She felt the shiver run through him as she lowered her head. The feel of his fingers threading deeper into her hair was almost painful but it only added to the tension that played along her spine and sent tingles along every nerve ending in her body.

She put them both out of the misery of anticipation as she lowered her head and drew his hard flesh between the softness of her lips.

"Fuck," she felt the power of his words curl along her toes. In that moment, she reveled in her feminine powers that had lain dormant for a life time. She was elemental. She was all powerful. She was life itself. She was woman.

She roared quietly as she opened her mouth and drew half of his length deep into her mouth until it touched the back of her throat. Slowly she sucked softly on his flesh trying to draw him deeper. When that proved impossible, she tried another tactic; slowly she retreated up almost the full length of his flesh until just the soft mushroom shaped head rested between her parted lips.

She suckled softly upon his flesh as her fingers wrapped about the rest of his length. She soon found a rhythm that she could tell sang through his body. She smiled around his firm flesh as she felt another shiver run up his body. She augmented the pace set by her hands by sliding her mouth slowly down, taking as much of him as possible deep into its warm, wet recesses.

"Fuck," he spat again. The words might have seemed out of place in the romances that had been her only sexual outlet for most of her life, but she felt the sentiments behind them to her core and those sentiments overshadowed anything she had ever read.

She tried to return to her womanly games but this time the fingers still entwined in her long hair was not to be denied. His firm grip pulled her mouth from his flesh and drug her body slowly up his. Esther was the one moaning and cursing at the intense pleasure/pain as her nipples grazed against his chest. She swore that she could feel the roughness of his chest hair against the sensitive buds of her nipples even through her nightgown.

When he had tugged her up so that they were eye-to-eye once more, his lips turned upward into a secretive smile. His fingers released their hold upon her hair and slid slowly down the side of her face. Lower still as they trailed along the pulse beating steadily in her throat. His large hands smoothed across her bare shoulders leaving electrical shocks in their wake. She was helpless to stop her body as it moved against him.

She was straddling his firm thighs, her knees planted firmly on either side of his hips. It was a position that left her completely open, exposed. Her body moved against his, rubbing against the thick material of his pants that still covered most of his lower body. She whimpered at the intrusive barrier. She needed to feel his skin against her, all of her.

As if reading her mind, Michael's fingers trailed softly down her arms to her fingertips. They continued lower to where the offensive material of her old nightgown bunched around her hips. His fingers found the edges and jerked them upwards. She felt the rush of the cool night air as it brushed along heated skin, but it did nothing to cool the passions and fire that were building inside of her.

As her head sprang free of the material, she smiled, tossing her curls about her shoulders, "Now, I think you are the one overdressed." She matched actions to words as she pushed once more at the thick elastic waistband of his sweat pants, pushing them down his legs. He kicked them free with a smile, "Yes, ma'am. Fuck."

Esther laughed at the lapse. Laughter and love was something that had been distinctly missing from her life for a very long time, but they felt like old friends in that moment. Trailing her fingers ups the wiry expanse of his thighs she purred, "We might have to get distinctly kinky with this ma'am thing, Michael. I am after all a teacher." Bending forward she blew hot air across the surface of his broad chest. "What do you want me to teach you?"

If she was half shocked by her bold behavior it was not something that she wanted to analyze at that moment. This night was a miracle. And miracles were not to be second guessed. There would be days and long nights, a life time of them, in which to remember and dissect each word and action. But not now. Now all Esther wanted was to live. Live in this moment with this man that had captured her imagination and her heart so very long ago.

"Where were we?" she whispered against the column of his throat. She watched as he swallowed the ridge that moved up and down said more about how he felt, what she was doing to him than words ever could.

Her hands planted on his broad shoulders, she kissed along that strong column as she lowered her hips to make contact with the heated flesh of his thighs.

Esther had never been one for wearing underwear beneath the distinctly reserved night gown. It seemed too restrictive, too uncomfortable. So it was bare flesh of her inner thighs that met the bare flesh of his hips as she rubbed against him like a cat she purred as she found the rhythm this time. The rhythm that drove them both to the edge of insanity.

"Fuck," he spat again.

Esther smiled against his skin. "That's what we're trying for, Sergeant," she teased.

But her teasing caught in her throat as he shifted, lifting his hips, he found the center of her being and surged forward, filling her and stretching her. Esther threw back her head and closed her dark eyes. Nothing she had ever felt compared to this moment, no fantasy even touched it.

Her fingers on his shoulders tightened. If she had thought, she would have realized that she was leaving small crescent shaped scratches in his skin. But neither of them noticed. Neither cared as the pain mingled with the pleasure slipping deep into its shadows as her body found release and fulfillment like it never had before.

Esther rode out the wave as it broke like the sun upon the shore. She whimpered as her body lost the beat, whimpered in need for more of this amazing drug. But her plea was heard. His fingers digging deep into the tender softness of her round hips he held her as he rolled them over.

When she opened her eyes, her lover loomed large above her. She could feel the change, the proverbial turning of the tide. The time for games and teasing, testing her feminine wiles was long past. This man was determined. Firm in his resolve, she could see it in the set of his jaw, the steel of those blue-grey eyes. He was driven. If she should have shrunk back at the intensity, she have cowered under ancient memories of pain and shame, she did not. She knew this man on some soul deep level. Knew his honor. And even in his strength she felt his tenderness as he began to move inside of her.

She would have sworn it was not possible. After such a deeply satisfying orgasm, her body should have been replete. Instead it seemed just the opposite; every millimeter of her skin seemed charged with his touch. The sight of him as those muscles played beneath the softness of his skin in the moonlight filled her mind and senses, lighting new fires inside of her.

Her hands crept about his back, seeking an anchor as he moved deeper throwing them both into the depths of this ocean of need. They rode each wave. Crested each peak as she clung to him. Until it felt as if he would sweep her away on a tsunami of passion. His body thrust deep inside her as they clung to one another in the darkness. Each completely alone in their thoughts, yet each meddled together on some deeper level that transcended it all.

Her fingers brushed the damp hair back from his face as he collapsed next to her. A gentle smile played at those delicious lips. She could not resist the temptation to taste this new flavor as she brushed her lips across his mouth. She closed her eyes and simply felt. Warmth. Safety. Alive...was the final thought as sleep captured her.

CHAPTER FOUR

Esther stared at the computer screen. Her fingers hovered over the send button. The words haunted her. Honestly more than this email was bothering her this day.

After the most amazing night of her life, she had woken up alone in her bed. The early morning sunlight filtering through the sheers and the pillow next to her still warm. She had finally found Michael in the kitchen, making coffee and breakfast.

It was not like she had a great deal of experience to draw upon with this sort of thing. There really had not been many mornings after in her life. Being a single mother and teacher had been her focus.

Of course, Tommy was gone now. And if she sent this email, her career might well be over too. Well, perhaps not her career, but certainly her job in this town would be in jeopardy. That was the way things were in small towns; they protected their own. And despite a quarter of a century living in Sebida, she would never be one of its own. But Cassie Monroe was; no matter what she might do to her young son.

This was an email that Esther had written and re-written a hundred times over the past few months. She knew better than to report her concerns to the local authorities. But her friend with Children's Services in Austin was another matter. The woman would make certain there was an investigation.

It had never really been an issue of whether or not she would send the email. A child was being abused. It was not something she could just turn a blind eye towards. But lately there had been more bruises and cuts.

No, what had been holding Esther back had been fear. Pure and simple. She was afraid of what might happen, what she might lose when she made this allegation. With Tommy gone, her job and the house where she had raised him was all that she had left. The idea of losing her job and being forced to move had kept her paralyzed for months.

But no more. Not after last night. No matter what might have happened or not happened this morning, she knew that something deep inside of her had come to life again.

Hitting the send button, Esther grabbed the paper sack on the table next to her. He had made her lunch while she slept. Practically forced her to sit at the kitchen table and eat breakfast as well as her usual coffee. And through it all, neither had mentioned a thing about what had happened under the cover of darkness. Instead they chatted about inconsequential things, plans for tonight.

Esther supposed it could have been worse. He could have apologized; said it was all a mistake. This thing between them might be many things, but a mistake was not one of them.

***

Esther smiled as she looked around her almost vacant front yard. It was getting late; her watch said that it was close to ten. She should give the last call for the haunted house and witches brew. There were only a handful of her students left anyway. The parents had started taking the younger children in over an hour ago.

She stood up from the table where she had been reading cards for most of the night. Her muscles touched a bit stiff. Or perhaps they were sore from unfamiliar activities. Either way it had been a wonderful night. The children and young people were genuinely pleased that she had kept the tradition. And for her part, Esther felt her value to this community. If not to its leaders, its young families certainly appreciated her.

Well, most of them, she thought as she looked across the street at the dark house where Joey lived with his mother. He had not come tonight and that worried Esther. She had made up a special goody bag for him, perhaps tomorrow morning she would take it over there.

But before tomorrow morning she had to make it through tonight. That was not as easy as it sounded. It was also why she had been putting off sending the children home. She was not certain what to say or do around Michael...after last night.

There had not been much time to discuss what happened when she got home. There were cookies to be baked, costumes to be donned and witches brew to be mixed. Both of them had thrown themselves into the work, ignoring undercurrents that raced through them both. But they could not go on pretending nothing had happened.

"Alright everyone, it is getting late. I need to see most of you in class tomorrow. So, 'Sleep shall neither night nor day, hang upon his pent-house lid.' And that's ten points extra credit for anyone that can tell me where that quote is from tomorrow. But I want it exactly; author, title, scene, act and line. Off to bed with the lot of you."

She waved her arms about and cackled loudly as the teens laughed. She noticed that a couple of the older boys were hanging out with Michael by the haunted house and drinking punch. Her heart ached at how easily she could imagine Tommy with them.

As the first of the teenagers headed towards the street, an old Mustang sped around the corner. Her heart lurched in her chest and she caught her breath at how close a call it had been. The car sped into her neighbor's drive way, its engine was still revving loudly as a very drunk Cassie Monroe appeared out of the driver's side. Her dishwater blond hair hung limply about her molten face as she stumbled about.

A large man in a dirty t-shirt and dusty jeans got out of the side door, "Hey, bitch, I thought we was gonna have us some fun. Where you running off to now?" He brought an open can of beer to his mouth.

Esther pushed a couple of the girls behind her as the woman came stumbling across the road without even checking to see if another car was coming. She tried to steady herself against the mail box but it did little good as she continued on her ill-fated journey up Esther's walkway to where she stood near the front porch.

Her words rang like thunder through the night air. "I know it was you, you nigger bitch. After all this town did for you, turning our eyes to your whoring and accepting your half-breed bastard. Hell, even letting you teach our children. And you do this?" Even though her speech was slurred, anyone could make out what she was saying.

The words stung. Not because they were said in anger by a drunk woman, who blamed her for losing her son. They hurt because for the first time in twenty-five years that she had lived in this town, the truth came out. As hurtful as they were ringing inside her head, she knew they were merely amplified versions of those whispered so often behind her back in the past.