The Duesy

...This afternoon was the first truly last warm day of fall. The temperatures in the sixties, conjuring up out of the earth those sweet familiar smells that certify fall more surely then the leaves changing color. Finch was whistling a theme from something-Debbie thought it was Grieg. A moment later Diana Krall was singing. Finch crooned softly, without ruining it:

'S wonderful
'S marvelous
That you should care for me
'S awful nice
'S paradise
'S what I long to see!

He was a man of eclectic taste in music, as in everything, including his love for Debbie.

"God, but that is lovely, isn't it? She has a lovely voice, just like her mother had." He said quietly, so as not to intrude as she slipped into the next tune. He always seemed poised for the pleasure of the sound.

I remember you,
You're the one who made my dreams come true,
A few kiss ago.
I remember you,
You're the one who said I love you too,
Didn't you?
I remember too,
A distant bell,
And stars that fell like rain,
Out of the blue.
When my life is thru
And the angles ask me to recall
The thrill of them all
Then I shall tell them
I remember you!

Finch's hand slowly slipped along her thigh in a very sensual caress that seemed to speak through the words of the song just to her. His hand was warm and his warmth soaked through the wool skirt now half way up her thigh.

"You know, what we really need is some music to match the car." Finch reached over the back of the creamy leather seat and retrieved a CD. Debbie had brought her "boom-box" along and it sat between them on the flat floor. The wonderful old Duesy had only it's original radio, so accurately had the restoration been managed. Finch handed the CD to her and she looked at the label to find a very old picture of a man with slicked down hair, parted in the middle, holding a cornet propped upright, the horn on his knee.

"Bix Beiderbeck. Where do you find these things, Finch? And what is a Bix Beiderbeck?" she laughed.

Finch was strikingly handsome, and Debbie liked to think that even in an ordinary car they would have attracted some notice as they slid down Highway 3A and off onto a lesser tributary that would lead them to the sea. But this was no ordinary car. The heads that turned like dry leaves following a gust of wind, were not gawking at the lovely redhead or her charming lover, but at the 1936 custom-bodied Model J Deusenberg that had been restored to mint condition. It gleamed like ice as they swept through little hamlets along their path, through sands of salt-smelling pine and wide marshy cranberry bogs until from the crest of a hill they could see the Atlantic opening out in front of them.

"The only thing you can decently compare to a beautiful car is a beautiful woman," Finch said, winking at her.

Debbie couldn't help laughing at Finch's statement.

"Even after all this time, you make me blush," Debbie replied, squeezing his thigh tenderly..

They gassed up before a crowd in Scituate Harbor. Debbie, returning from the fairly clean little restroom, stopped and smiled at Finch's prideful slouch against the huge white walled spare tire jutting from the neat well in the front fender. It always happened, every man within two miles made his way over to admire their own image gleaming in twenty-seven coats of deep wine lacquer of her finish. She had heard his laconic, self confident, casual replies to their questions. Debbie could almost repeat all the answers by now and mouthed his words over the shoulder of one of the admirers.

"Two hundred sixty five horsepower. It's the Murphy Twin Cowl rig of the engine. They turbo charged the damned thing in 1937 to bring it up to 320 horses! Christ, the biggest thing on the road at that time was 115 horsepower in a Chrysler."

Finch saw her aping his words and smiled at her, then tried to wipe it off his face and continue his conversation. There was no hope though, she was full of life and slipped behind him, put one foot on the big substantial running board and slipped her skirt up her thigh.

"Yessir, this baby will really go!" she chortled and smiled into the stranger's eyes.

"Oh, sorry, you folks will want to be on your way." He said, his eyes moving off the car and onto Debbie's thigh.

"No, no, just kidding my friend here! He likes to talk, doesn't he?"

The stranger waved and moved off to climb into his own car and head down the road. Finch looked over his shoulder at her.

"It'll do 115 MPH easily and won't spill a drop of your tea!" you forgot that part, smart-ass, he said, his smile broadening as her hands slipped around his waist and into the band of his trousers like John Wayne would have done.

"Sorry! Am I fired?"

"No, I'm keeping you on just for the laughs -- and sex."

"Promises, promises, promises." Debbie snuggled closer and kissed along the jutting squareness of his jaw.

Finch made sure that his bicep brushed across both her breasts as he turned toward her. They stood leaning against each other for a moment and then he reluctantly swung open the big, quiet door.

"I'll give you promises." He muttered close to her ear as she climbed up the running board and swirled her long skirt around pretty legs and slipped into the luxury of the car.

Debbie could feel his eyes on her as he swung behind the wheel and reached for the starter. She knew he was taking in the complete sweep of her body from her toes along smooth, stockinged calves, across the firm expanse of her thighs under the skirt, touching the nipped in slimness of her waist under the wide red belt, and then up over the perky nipples now tenting the tailored blouse. She loved it. Sometimes it could bring a hint of moistness between her tightly clenched thighs, when he did this. She pretended to be looking far off down the street.

"It is so lovely today, Finch. Could we get a small bottle of wine and stop for a few minutes along the way, do you suppose?"

"I thought you got all the ocean you wanted in Provincetown, sweetheart. But, yes, of course we can. Sounds delightful. It might be fun to just go topless and get a little sun on those beauties you keep hiding from me."

Debbie smiled her tight-lipped smile and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes as his hand reached for the floor mounted shifter handle between them.

They found a bottle of 1964 Chateau neuf-du-Pape in a package store called Dad's on the main street and drove out along the now nearly deserted cliffs.

It was too late in the season to be very busy. The cliffs were gorgeous, with a breeze like a soft hand on your cheek, and the ocean a dazzle of bright waves below.

Finch pulled off the road and they stood by the car, admiring the small fishing boats, cutting home through the bay, it's water turned gold by the late sun. Sea gulls flocked noisily to escort them in. The tide was running against the cliff wall far below, dashing the rocks with a fine spray. Debbie looked up into Finch's face, and he kissed her.

Finch's kiss was hard but not hurtful and Debbie pressed back wanting more. His tongue slid around her teeth and lips, only rarely darting deeper. Debbie's was less temperate. She stretched it, probing at the back of his mouth and the roots of his tongue.

Debbie's hands were kneading his sides and his shoulders urgently. Finch's hands came around now and found her breasts. His thumbs slipped in between his body and the slippery material of her shirt and rubbed her nipples. They became erect almost immediately. She had very erogenous nipples. The heat was building in her body like a runaway steam engine.

"Let's go somewhere," Debbie panted, "take a room; the first place we see."

Instead of answering, Finch began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Oh God, honey, don't tease me anymore! We won't be able to stop. Let's go where we can do something about it."

He finished the buttons slowly, methodically, savoring each one as it opened and revealed her smooth breasts, the soft cups of her white bra, teasing him with it's half hidden treasure. Seductively, he un-tucked her shirt tail from her slacks.

" Finch...," she began. Before she could think of what else to say, he yanked the shirt off and tossed it into the car along with his own.

A car horn sounded on the road, less then fifty yards from where they stood. A Ryder truck pulled to the side and let an impatient little orange Toyota hurry past. The Ryder truck continued on its lumbering way.

"Finch...we can't, not here," Debbie pleaded." We are on a main road. Someone will see us."

Finch opened the catch between her breasts, his eyes wide with pleasure as the valley between her breasts peaked out. He left it hanging open as he slowly nuzzled between the soft mounds, kissing the resisting cups from first her left breast and then the right. She watched as his lips slipped over the briskly erect nipple of her left beast and felt him begin to nibble wetly on it. It felt so very good to have his mouth there. Debbie felt his hands slip under the cups of her bra and press her breasts upward, holding first one and then the other to be worshipped by his lips, his tongue, his nose, even, as Finch carefully began loving her. Shivers shot out light warm lightning and zeroed in on the triangle between her legs. Debbie let the straps of her bra fall down her arms and she dropped it into the back seat of the car.

As Finch continued to lovingly fondle her breasts, making them feel wonderful in the process, Debbie opened the button and zipper holding her skirt and stood shamelessly in his arms, looking over her shoulder at the road so very near. She closed her eyes in a moment of sheer pleasure as his teeth nipped her nipple gently, and he slipped to his knees in front of her.

Finch's hands found the twin round buns of her bottom, the taut nylon of her panties sculpting her beauty. His hands roamed over the smooth curves. Debbie shuddered again, her bottom being another of her favorite erogenous zones. Finch had located all of them, she reflected, except one she was saving for a special moment. She giggled at the thought.

"Something funny?" he muttered into the warm mound of curls where his lips were making further exploratory kisses. His hands moved to her waist and began slipping her panties down her legs, his lips never moving from their place at her apex. His tongue darted out and touched the very top of the crease pointing between her legs. She opened her legs a little, feeling the wetness.

Finch kissed and nuzzled and pressed his nose close to take in the wonderful, slightly lusty scent of her. A combination of her perfume and her own scent that drove him nearly out of his mind every time she snuggled his head between her legs and let him eat her pussy.

She had worn stockings only because she knew that he liked them. More than that, she knew that it drove him at least two steps further down the road to complete madness. Complete and wild madness for her! She knew it was shameless, but, what the heck, you deserve the edge once in awhile. She smiled and wriggled slightly as his hands fondled her nyloned legs. As he unsnapped them, she raised first one and then the other and planted her foot on his thigh, close to his cock. Moving her foot an inch she found how hard his cock had become.

Debbie was naked now, stunningly naked. With the bay behind her and the road in front, she had nothing but Finch and a Model J Deusenberg for cover. She flattened herself against him and peered fearfully over his shoulder. A blue chevy puttered by on the road but didn't look towards the cliffs. Debbie's panic began to ebb a little. She was aware of the warm breeze rustling her hair and the warmth of the sun on her skin, and the twitching, hardening urgency of Finch's cock through his trousers, against her belly. It felt firm and hot and she moved her tummy across it, then back again, letting it settle nicely in to a hollow of her body and cradling it there.

Debbie slid to her knees in front of her lover, and unbuttoned the front of his pants. She felt safer, down low and concealed from the road by the sleek sentinel of the Model J. But still she felt exposed and every pore of her body responded with quivering excitement.

She pulled his pants down slowly. She loved the hardness of him. Finch's ass was smooth and hard. As she inched the pants lower, the veined cylinder of his cock came into view, straining against the material holding it down. When she reached the lip of his cock head, she stopped, leaving the whole surging power of his prick held back by the most sensitive square inch of skin on a man's body.

She leaned her cheek against the shaft, Drew her hair across it, Breathed soft warm breath on it. Ran the tip of her tongue Along his length, From the nest of hair at the root, Down along the trembling length, her lips traced. Until she reached the fabric barrier. She paused, sensing his warmth.

She heard a sigh from above, and felt Finch's fingers tighten in her hair. She tugged sharply downward.

It broke like a thoroughbred from a starting gate. She had meant to catch it in her mouth as it popped up, but it surged past and caught her in the eye. She saw stars for a moment, then grasped the bouncing shaft and plunged it between her lips.

"Ohhhhhhhh, ..." she heard his gasp, and it made her even more excited and urgently sucked him deep into her mouth. Her cheeks concaved as she pulled him deep into the warm moisture of her mouth and began to guide him to stroke into her mouth. Her hands were on his ass now, as his had been on hers a few minutes earlier. Debbie loved the feeling of control she had now, holding his balls in one hand, a finger hooked over the base of his cock. She slowly made love to him, feeling his surging cock swell beneath her tongue and lips.

"Darling!" She heard him scream into the wind. She felt the head of his cock stab uncontrollably deeper into her mouth, invading her throat. Finch tried to stop her, but she wouldn't let him go. She felt his legs tense, the cheeks of his ass tighten under her grip, and finally felt his balls seem to surge in her cupped hand.

Debbie fucked him with her mouth faster and faster, holding him, sucking him, squeezing his girth with her lips, swirling her tongue around the now huge shaft in her mouth. Suddenly she could feel with the sensitiveness of her lips the vein on the underside of his suede-like cock fill and pulse. His sperm came pouring forth. Debbie clung to him, urging him to cum deep inside her mouth.

"Sweetheart!!" he screamed.

Debbie tasted the warm second spurt of his cum against her tongue and a third. Again she urged him with her tongue, suckled him with her lips, as if pulling it all from his body into hers. She felt his cock slacken slightly and slowly let him slip from her mouth, still cradling his cock in the palm of her hand as their eyes met lovingly, his spent and looking like slits in his attitude of pleasure, hers bright, brown pools, smiling up at him.

Finch pulled her to her feet and kissed her deeply, holding her close, his hands roaming her body softly, lightly like feathers, tenderly like a lover touches.

"About that wine, darling?" she whispered in her ear, following it with her tongue. "I bought paper cups."

Finch reached into the car and found the bottle. "Your wish, my darling, ... sounds good." He opened the back door and handed Debbie into a seated position. She jumped as he pressed the wine bottle provocatively between her thighs.

"Could you hold this a minute? Needs to be just room temperature, please."

Leaving her to admire the scene, he moved to the back of the car. The trunk on a Duesenberg really is a trunk. Like a sea trunk your grandmother had in her attic. He pulled out a large picnic hamper and a Stewart-plaid blanket.

Taking the bottle from her, he commented, "Perfect, just the right temperature, thanks, darling." Taking her hand, he lead the way a few yards nearer the edge of the cliff and spread the blanket. Opening the hamper, he took out a sterling silver corkscrew and opened the bottle. Would you like Brie or Double Gloucester cheese, darling? OH what the hell, let's have both!.

Debbie sat on the blanket between his hairy thighs and leaned into the cradling mass of his chest and sipped the wine, wondering at how well the cheeses made a meal with the wine. As she fed him over her shoulder, his strength began to return and his hands soothed her breasts.

"MMMmmmh. Feels good, honey." She murmured, raising her cheek to be nuzzled. She felt a little like a Cheshire cat lying in the sun, content that her time was about to come. She could already feel him stirring against her teasing backside.

"Want me?" she said, feeling completely brazen and deliciously confident in his love.