The Plumber's Daughter

I was mixing the batter when Patrick walked up behind me and put his arms around my waist, putting his face close to mine, while looking down into the bowl. He kissed my cheek most intimately and said, "Good morning, my Queen. What are you making, soup?" He then reached for the bowl and I slapped his hand with the spoon.

I put the spoon into the bowl and turned to face him, putting my arms around his neck, and kissing his lips, "Coffee, pancakes from scratch, bacon and fried eggs anyway you like them, Blue Knight."

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" he asked.

"No, and breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes."

"Yes ma'am. I'll have two eggs sunny-side up please. I have something that I have to do in the barn," and with that he stuck his finger in the bowl and then darted out the screen door, stopping to put his batter covered finger into his mouth, "Very tasty, but not as delicious as your lips are, Marie Antoinette."

Ignoring the porch steps, Patrick vaulted over the porch railing and ran to the barn, shouting," Marie Antoinette's lips are delicious, and she's making me pancakes." He left me smiling, and thinking, "If he reacts that way for pancakes, just wait until he tastes my sauce."

Patrick is in the barn getting it ready for the horses and his mind racing. He is on cloud nine, and can't wait to introduce Marie to Sam, and to everybody for that matter. He took his dream about his wife as sign, a portent that Anne approved; such was their selfless love for each other in life. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts about Marie that he didn't hear his father-in-law arrive with a guest and the horses.

"Wow, my favorite breakfast. Maybe Marie would like to go with me to the Fireman's Carnival later this afternoon. The Draft Horse Competition starts at four, and after we can grab a bite to eat. She felt so good in my arms last night, and then looked so beautiful this morning with the sunlight shining on her through the kitchen window. I can't remember when I have been this happy. Sam should be here anytime now. He can have breakfast with us.

When Sam meets Marie, he will have to stop his good intentions at being matchmaker. Susan just won't take no for an answer. What an annoyance that woman is. I'm just not interested...although, I couldn't keep my hands out of her long red hair when we were in High School, and I did have her several times before I joined the Marines. Now the widow McCartney, Susan has the same long flaming red hair...well maybe I was tempted for a roll in the hay for old time sake, but then she would really never leave alone. I had better get into the house though, my pancakes are getting cold."

I walked outside and saw the horse trailer in the driveway which meant Sam was already in the house. When I walked in there was Susan sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, and Marie standing behind her glaring at me. Sam wouldn't look up at me from his plate of pancakes, and I was thinking, "Damn it Sam, of all days to bring Susan here, you had to choose this morning. This is definitely going to throw a monkey wrench into things. What did you promise her now? I hope there are some pancakes left for me."

It didn't help that Susan got up and hugged me and then kissed my cheek, saying, "Thank you for volunteering to help me in the ticket booth, Patty. I was so excited when Sam told me. I'm sure that we will sell more tickets than anybody like we did together at the home coming dance. Remember what we did afterwards, Patty?"

Hells bells, did Susan have to say that in front of Marie. I didn't get pancakes, just scrambled eggs and toast. Susan just prattled on and on about Patty this and Patty that, and how we were an item our Senior Year. Susan always insisted on calling me Patty, not Pat or Patrick, and my name is Patrick, damn it. Marie quietly cleaned the kitchen and the excused herself, going into the spare bedroom, closing the door. Well at least she didn't slam it or break any dishes.

Susan followed me outside, quite certain that I had finally given in to her. She was talking about packing a lunch and about her Church Social on Sunday, making plans for me. I couldn't refuse and make Sam out to be a liar; his intentions were good, misplaced though they are. After the horses were settled in, and they left, I went back into the house to do damage control only to find that Marie locked herself in the bathroom....great.

"Marie, we need to talk. Will you please unlock the door?" no answer, "I'm not interested in her, Marie, that is ancient history", still no answer, "I didn't know anything about it," still no answer.

I was thinking, "This is so unfair of her," and I was starting to get angry, thinking, "Take a deep breath Patrick, and count to three before you speak again,"

I took a deep breath, several actually, "The hinges are on the outside of the door, my Queen. Don't make me takes them off and open the door that way."

"Save your breath and save my ears," she replied, "I have already made up my mind."

"For goodness sake, Marie, give me a chance to explain. Won't you at least talk to me? I'll get Sam back and he will explain everything."

"I said I have already made my mind up about you, and nobody is going to change it, no matter what they say. Nobody had better get in my way now that I have finally made up my mind."

"Darn you, Marie," I said, pounding on the door, "You're really something you know that. Open the darn door and stop acting like a spoiled child or this time I just might treat you like one.

"Oh, that's real mature, pounding on the door, Patty. Who's a spoiled child now?"

"I'm getting angry, Marie. You can push me just so far!"

"How far is too far, Patty?"

"It's Patrick, and you really don't want to know, so open the darn door."

"Don't you ever curse or swear when you are angry, Patty, Patty, Patty or is it all wishy-washy baby talk, like darn door or for goodness sake?"

"Not in front of women or children I don't. " I said, throwing up my hands in frustration.

"I'm not coming out until I'm good and ready, Patty, Patty, Patty."

"God bless you, woman," and I hit the door again.

Marie:

When I opened the door Patrick was standing there with his feet apart and his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were like dark gray storm clouds, menacing and dangerous. Wow, maybe I did push him a bit too far. I was about to find out. This was the final test.

I took my robe off and let it drop to the floor at my feet, standing naked before him. I then put my arms around his neck and kissed his mouth. He let his arms drop to his side and let out a big sigh, "You were teasing me weren't you? It was all an act?

"You're my man now, Blue Knight. I have made up my mind. I'm not going anywhere. You are stuck with me."

"Do you have any idea what you just put me through, Marie?"

"Of course I do. I was there, remember?"

"Then I suppose that you are my woman, my Queen," He said, smiling, "and stuck with me."

"You suppose?" I asked, kissing his mouth, again.

"Most definitely you are my woman, Marie Antoinette," And he put his strong arms around my waist and pulled me tight.

"Good, it's settled then. Do you think I'm pretty, Patrick?"

"Not just pretty, I think you are a beautiful?"

"Am I more beautiful than, Susan?"

"Susan is merely pretty, while you are beautiful, my Queen."

"That was an honest answer, stud. Do you think I am hot, sexy hot?" I already knew the answer. I could feel his erection straining against his blue jeans. I kissed his mouth again.

"You scorch my lips when I kiss you, my Vanilla girl."

"Do you want me to suck on your big cock?"

"Oh, yah!"

"Talk dirty to me then."

"A pig fell in the mud."

"You will have to do better than that," I said, reaching down and squeezing his crotch."

"Can't I just think it?" he asked.

"No, you have to talk dirty."

"I want you to lick and suck, my cock, you hot and sexy Spitfire."

"That's it Stud, keep it up, just be yourself, my Knight, don't hold back."

"No holds barred, Marie?" He asked, holding me in place with his right around my waist, while stroking my wet pussy with the fingers of his left.

"Oh yes, that feels so good... so good, keep it up!"

"Your plump little cunt belongs to me now, bitch Marie. I can smell your hot musky woman's scent when you are in heat like this. Like a bitch in heat, dripping with estrogen."

I was thinking, "My god, I can't believe that he just said that to me, or the way he said it, the inflection in his voice. He has me tingling all over. Would he make me do it here on the floor? I was thinking that we would do it in the bedroom."

Patrick's eyes were a different shade of gray now, like clouds gathering for an impending storm. Not quite as dark, but hinting to what would come next. Patrick grabbed my hair and tugged, pulling my head back. He looked deep into my eyes, "You will suck on my cock and then swallow all of my semen for teasing me, bitch. This hairstyle is cute on you, but is not what I prefer. A cock sucking bitch's hair should be much longer."

My god, he was getting me even more aroused. I could hardly stand it. I could actually feel my juices dripping down my legs...well I asked for it. He took a few steps back releasing my hair. He then said, "Undress me, little bitch. You will keep your eyes closed."

I stepped forward closing my eyes. I reached up and took his face in my hands. I kissed his mouth like he kissed me, long and deep. I opened one eye to peek, and he gave my ass a hard slap saying, "No peeking."

I liked it though. Patrick can be so domineering and forceful. Maybe that is why I am fascinated with him. Here was a man who can actually handle me. Not that I would push that issue for its own sake. I might not like the outcome.

I started with his heavy leather black belt, unbuckling it. I then unbuttoned the copper button of his blue jean so that I could pull out his blue chambray shirt that was tucked. I unbuttoned the shirt and took it off of him, dropping it to the floor. As I ran my hands over his hard arms and shoulders, I could feel that he was not wearing a tee shirt. I then ran my hands over his hard chest and stomach, kissing my way down.

Patrick had a clean, masculine smell devoid of heavy aftershaves or colognes that many men favor. I was down on my knees when I unzipped his jeans and pulled then down over his ankles for him to step out of; next his socks, and finally his boxer shorts. His hard cock was huge.

"You will get a washcloth and wash me first," he said, "don't worry about getting the floor wet, just soap my cock good and then rinse well."

It was so erotic washing him, and thoughtful on his part. I soaped his big cock as he ordered and rinsed it clean with the washcloth. I dried it with a towel while Patrick ran my fingers through my hair. I dropped the towel on the floor where I got it wet.

Patrick then put his strong callused hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me down on my knees on the rug and I started licking it. I could feel his cock pulsating on my tongue.

I looked up at him for his approval and he looked down nodding his head, smiling. "Use your mouth and tongue for now. Be a good little cocksucker and after I come in your mouth I'm going to take you into the bedroom, I may fuck you like a stallion on a broodmare.

I was trying to hold back my orgasm and barely succeeding. Patrick continued running his fingers through my hair while gently caressing my face. I was looking up into his eyes, and then I closed them. I continued to lick and suck, concentrating to please him, taking his cock deeper into my mouth, anticipating when he would take me into the bedroom and fuck me like a stallion on a broodmare. Soon his breathing increased, deep steady breathes and he was making a low noise in his throat, a low deep primal growl that actually gave me goose bumps.

This was followed by his thunderous orgasm releasing a deluge of hot creamy cum raining into my mouth. It was a delicious relentless barrage of semen for me to swallow. I swallowed it greedily, much as the parched dry earth is nourished by the precious rain after a drought. I was overwhelmed by that onslaught of cum as my orgasm washed over me. It seemed to me then that my past sex life was a drought of sexual repression as Patrick's flood of semen warmed and nourished my tummy and I was thinking;

For some reason the Jerk never cared for oral sex. He didn't like blow jobs` and wouldn't eat me out. Can you believe it? What man doesn't like getting a blow job? We always did it in bed from behind, lying on our sides with a pillow underneath his head so he was comfortable; always in bed, never facing me, and always the same way. If I tried to initiate anything new he became surly and sulky.

Now, here I was, hundreds of miles from home, on my knees sucking on a big cock, the cock of a man that I just met and loving it.

Of course I have made my mind up about him; I want him, Patrick is my man now. He has made it perfectly clear that he wants me and actions speak louder than words. The Jerk could be charming when he wanted to be. He was a smooth talker, a player, while Patrick is a doer. No man makes love to a woman like Patrick does unless he has some feelings for her. You can't fake that. And earlier, the familiar, intimate way that he hugged me and kissed my cheek. Or when he stuck his finger in the bowl batter and ran out the door....he showed me a side of him only his wife ever saw.

That ridiculous woman is not about to stand in my way. I have to admit that she is a beautiful woman. Susan now thinks that she has a chance with him. If Patrick was interested he would have had her long before now. Can she possibly be that obtuse, she continued prattling on, Patty this and Patty that like I wasn't even there. It must be the hair, Patrick let that inadvertently slip just now, or did he? I wonder how I would look with long braids. I can't very well play the part of his Indian wife with my hair this short, and besides, it will give him something to pull on while he is fucking me like a stallion on a broodmare...what a way to put things.

I saw the look on Patrick's face when he walked into the kitchen. His father-in-law didn't even look up from his plates of pancakes, and boy can Sam eat. Sam looked guilty and embarrassed; he didn't say a word. Patrick was as stiff as a board when she hugged and kissed him. I was just having a little fun at his expense. Besides, he will be taking me to the Fireman's Carnival, it will be fun. The three of us can sell tickets.

I have plans for us. I will keep my house on Long Island. We can spend part of our summers there or get away on the weekends the rest of the year. Dad can put in a corner shower here, I know just the spot. I defiantly want a refrigerator with cold water and ice in the door.

I need to go back to Long Island soon and take care of some things. I will bring back some clothes and my makeup. Then we will stop in Brooklyn. I'm going to take Patrick to meet my Mom and Dad. We can talk about it on the way to the Fireman's Carnival."