Ain't Budging Ch. 02

Kudos to DragonSlayer for his uber-patience and for help with editing this chapter.

---------------------------

Rhett stirred awake, his eyes still closed and his arm reached out for Theresa, but there was nothing there. Rhett opened his eyes with great reluctance and looked around his thoroughly disheveled room, or what used to be his wildly disheveled room. Everything had been folded and straightened up, including his stack of clean clothes that he kept on his chair. Theresa had obviously struck again. Rhett pried himself out of bed.

He yawned out, "Theresa, where you hiding?" Everything sounded so silent. It was a little ghostly.

Rhett leant forward, allowing his dark hair to cascade forward. He then heard the swing outside creaking. He looked out and through the haze of the dirty window saw Theresa on the swing, dressed as she had been when he met her; go-go boots, leopard skin hot pants and a big unleashed afro. Rhett looked at the clock on the wall. It was 6 am.

Well there's a chica that can't wait to be gone from me. Rhett twisted his lip bitterly.

Rhett approached the window and then knocked his knuckles against it lightly, hoping to get Theresa's attention. Theresa looked a little baffled; her head turned this way and that until she saw Rhett peering through the window.

She walked over with a smile and gave Rhett the same look as the night before- flicking her attentions from his eyes to his torso. He smiled back. Maybe she was staying after all, just an early riser.

Then she looked at him sternly and tapped an imaginary watch and mouthed "time." Rhett grimaced at her thoughtfully, and shook his head. She frowned; looking puzzled and then walked round the cabin.

Rhett walked to the open front door, and leant against its frame, feeling the warmth of the sunlight against his chest.

Theresa approached him, but stopped outside of Rhett's reach- making the empty space between them as taut as a tight rope. She placed her hands on her hips and a hand over her brow to shield her eyes from the sun.

"So when we going Rhett? The sun is shining, the birds are singing and you sir, get to be my taxi man for the morning, how about that?", Theresa gently closed her eyes and turned her palms towards the sun; the golden incandescence drew out the contours of her palm, the length of her ink-black lashes, illuminating her high mahogany cheekbones. Like a sun worshipper in communion with her god, she smiled.

"Why do you need to get there so soon? You want to get back to Howard, teach him some of what I taught you?" Rhett tried to say it in a light-hearted way, but it came out wrong, and bitterness cracked through his voice. He felt agitated all of a sudden, his body stiffened and he wanted to look away, but instead he fixed his gaze on her, staring.

Theresa just looked back at him in bemusement, which cheesed Rhett off; he blew a strand of hair out of his face in exasperation. She spoke gently, her voice delicate, "Rhett, take a chill pill honey. Howard was way too prim to learn anything other than fucking a girl horizontal and sunny-side up. "

Both of them grinned heartily, the creases in Rhett's eyes grew deeper, and he chuckled a little, and then kicked his naked heel slightly against the doorframe. Rhett felt awkward; he was in new territory. Normally, after a casual screw, he would wake up, with the mammas as snug as a bug in his bed, their eyes glowing at him, glassy and needy. Sometimes, they would stroke his face, his hair, seriously hampering his post one-night stand sleeping efforts. However, Theresa…she was acting as if nothing had happened between them. He should have been relieved; but instead, he felt edgy. He wondered what he had done wrong.

"So last night Theresa, did you have a good time?" Rhett tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, allowing his head to lollop against the wooden doorframe.

"Most certainly. If I had known this is what they meant by southern hospitality… " Theresa, threw him a mischievous look and smiled broadly. She puffed out her buxom chest, and stepped towards him a little, swinging her arms.

Rhett rolled off the door, and with something of a burlesque yawn, stretching his arms said coolly, "Yeah, it was okay. Hey, I think I'm going to shower and stuff, grab whatever you want from the fridge."

"I looked. Whatever I would have wanted in that fridge stopped being suitable for human consumption a month back." Theresa mumbled, before piping up, "Hey, what do you mean our fuck was 'okay' Rhett? Rhett?"

Rhett tried to saunter lazily as possible towards the bathroom, purposefully not responding. A bittersweet satisfaction fermented as he realized he had made Theresa a little insecure by downplaying how much he had enjoyed the fuck from the previous night. Now she was putty.

"Yeah, it was cool or whatever, look Theresa, I have to shower darlin', then I'll drop you round the interstate. Is that okay?"

Theresa protested, "Hell no it is not okay! Or, let me spell it out to you, 'okay' is not okay. What do you mean I was just okay?"

Rhett went into the bathroom, purposefully leaving the door slightly ajar before sliding out of his boxer shorts and then turned on the shower in his bathtub. He opened the bathroom window, and then hopped into the shower, allowing cool micro streams of water to shoot across his skin, swathing him in wetness. He deliberately turned his back to the door, for the simple reason that he knew he had a butt that chicks dug, and the tattoo on his back – a sphinx with a laughing skull head, was sure to make her look.

He whistled to himself, loudly, to hopefully piss Theresa off more and get her attention.

The door creaked open, and sure enough, it was Theresa by the door.

"Not looking, I'd just like to know. How is it that I was only 'okay' when I thought we had some good action going on?"

"Sorry, can't hear you, showers loud, come on in closer." Rhett could hear her perfectly well.

"If I come in any closer I'll see your naked butt."

"Like that's not something you haven't seen before."

He heard footsteps closing in and a sharp intake of breath, "I didn't really notice your back so much last night. That's one heck of a tattoo, what does it mean?"

"It was kind of how I felt at the time, can't explain it.", Rhett had had the tattoo done when he came back from Vietnam. He felt it was a talisman on his back- though he weren't about to share that thought with anyone.

"Well, it's pretty, in an ugly way." Theresa said quietly.

There was silence. Rhett with his back turned, allowed a slip of a smile to creep across his face as globules of water enveloped him. Theresa was watching him, lingering. He wandered what was going through her head.

-----------------

Theresa watched the water beat against his lean muscular body, wetting his tanned skin and shoulder-length hair. Her heart quickened at the sight of his handsome form, she so wanted to touch him, be held in his strong arms, as he had done the previous night. But she wasn't going to act like some pathetic little girl and fawn over him. That was not her style. Even so, watching him did something funny to her insides- there was a little flutter, somewhere between her belly and pussy. She wanted him.

God, I am turning into some kind of pervert. I only came here to ask a question. I'll ask the question.

"So, how was our fuck just, "Okay"? Tell me Sensei, as you obviously have a bounty of experience." Theresa tried to say as derisively as possible. His little 'it was okay' comment had been weirdly hurtful. She wanted an answer.

"I do, you just gonna stand there talking, or you gonna do something useful? Like help me with my back, polish up that tattoo a little."

"No need to say 'please' or anything, everybody knows bad manners are so attractive." Theresa waited, tapping her nails against her arm. She looked down and saw some of the nail varnish was chipping off. She grimaced; that was another good reason to get back to San Francisco; the thought of being seen with such tacky nails sent a shiver down her spine.

Rhett muttered, "Okay, quit talking, and help me scrub my back….please."

Theresa milked the situation, "Oh, and what do I get out of it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Woman...you are some kind of ordeal. You get to know why you were just okay, so that you can add them to your slut field notes or whatever." Rhett drawled, his words biting Theresa; she shifted uncomfortably in the doorway.

"Firstly, I am no slut, though yes, I do want to sharpen my love making skills, which every modern woman has a right to do. Second um, how do I scrub your back without getting wet with all my clothes on?"

"Simple, take them off, Slut." Theresa knew it was wrong that the word slut would make her pussy throb, but it did, because Rhett had an odd way of making it sound like a compliment.

Fucking him doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything if I don't make it mean anything.

Theresa retorted, "Don't call me a slut" as she peeled off her top.

"I call you that because you like it, and you know why you like being called a slut Theresa?" Rhett asked.

Theresa unpeeled her boots quickly; just about stumbling out of them, "Hmm, why do I like being called a slut?" Theresa wriggled out of her hot pants and panties. Her breathing had become shallower in excitement.

"Because you're a good little girl who's only just learning how to be bad. You like being called a slut because you'd like to be one." Rhett explained huskily, the sponge in his hand now washing his shoulders. He squeezed the sponge, soap suds cascaded down his back in gentle rolls. Theresa bit her lower lip, as she imagined following the trail of soapsuds with her lips and fingers.

"Whatever Rhett."

Theresa, naked, wandered towards Rhett and then stepped into the bathtub. Rhett's back was still turned, but she could see from his shoulder blades that his muscles appeared to have tensed a little.

Theresa uttered mischievously, her nipples brushing his back, "Can I have the sponge? "

Rhett saw her dark arm wrap round his torso, her palm open, she flexed her fingers, gesturing for the sponge. Rhett placed the waterlogged sponge in her palm; Theresa took it, her arm withdrawing. Rhett felt his skin tingle, from the onslaught of water, and anticipation as he felt Theresa's warm wet curves brush and intermittently press against his back.

"And the soap. Can't get you clean without soap."

Rhett responded gruffly, "I only got Mr. Bubble. No soap."

Theresa chuckled, a low throaty melody, "Cool, well, when I ask for a squirt of-"

"You know I'll give you a squirt of anything you ask for." Rhett replied in a low drawl.

"Mmm, okay….so polishing your back huh?" Theresa looked admiringly at the tattoo, and ran the soapy sponge lightly over it. The motions of her wrist eased into gentle rotations. Her other hand settled on the side of his hip. Theresa went from his shoulders, zigzagging down, idly following the dark blue edges of the tattoo.

"Harder" Rhett demanded.

Theresa ran a hand down Rhett's hip, "Harder what?"

"Wash my back, harder." Rhett straightened his back, as if trying to intimidate her into obeying him.

Theresa looked admiringly at his back, but something caught her attention; the laughing skull head appeared to be obscuring a raised bump of skin. She touched it gently, Rhett jerked.

"What's this? A scar?"

"Just wash my back." Rhett's voice was flat and cold. Theresa decided not to pursue it.

Theresa wrapped her arms around Rhett's waist reassuringly, "Okay, well I think I'm done washing your back. But I can think of something I'd like to wash, real hard."

Rhett took quiet pleasure in Theresa being pressed against his back, her breath against his wet skin.

Rhett lowered his head, watching Theresa's hand coyly press the sponge against the area above his cock, gently skimming downwards. He felt his semi-erection grow with anticipation, he exhaled, the thrumming sound of water around him growing louder, the water getting hotter.

Theresa tenderly brushed the sponge, with its soft textured surface, along the length of his cock; the back of her nails brushing a light blue vein.

"Yeah, that's it darlin'." Rhett groaned in encouragement, cocking his waist towards her hand.

Theresa rubbed Rhett's chest with her free hand and kissed his back, his scar, then stood on her tiptoes to plant delicate little kisses along his shoulder blades.

She pressed the sponge against Rhett's sensitized cock flesh more fervently.

"Soap. Squirt some soap onto the sponge. It will make washing you hard much easier." Theresa drawled.

Rhett grabbed the Mr. Bubble bottle, opened the lid and hastily squirted it on Theresa's sponge, "Here."

Theresa enveloped Rhett's cock with the soapy sponge and rubbed the sponge up and down his length. Rhett moaned as Theresa's other hand found his groin and cradled his hardness in her palm whilst she idly bathed his dick. He clenched his fist slightly, and then unfurled it-he needed more from Theresa. Rhett grabbed Theresa's lithe wrist, and then twisted around, facing her, his face to her face. He pulled Theresa towards him. Her breasts press against his chest; chocolate satiny cushions.

"Mmm, stopping me from getting my paws on the cookie jar? That's truly unfair." Theresa purred naughtily.

"You got me all wrong, I'm giving you a free pass to the cookie jar…"

He smiled, the pearly whites of his teeth bare, his eyes blazed as blue and hungry as a predator that had marked his prey. Theresa gazed back challengingly, as Rhett nakedly assessed Theresa's sexy body, inspecting how openly it craved him; arousal had stiffened Theresa's nipples into protruding nubs.

Rhett released her wrist, momentarily caressed the nape of Theresa's neck, pulling her in closer. He looked at her as if he was reading her, before kissing her forehead; his clipped beard tickling her.

Rhett's cock, slippery from the wetness, pressed against Theresa's ebony belly and flattened against her stomach. Rhett rubbed it up and down, his pre-cum mixing with the liquid glow of her mahogany skin. Theresa smiled at him playfully, and let her hand brush his bottom- gently squeezing it, sending a throb from his balls to his cock.

Rhett groaned, "You're a bad little mamma with too much sass, now why don't you do something good with that pretty mouth of yours and suck my white cock?"

Theresa pouted, "Manners Rhett."

"Mmm, nope, now it's your turn to have some manners, and be obedient."

Theresa raised a questioning eyebrow, "and why would I obey you?"

"Oh we can be political about it Theresa, but I'll let you into a secret – no matter how strong you are with your clothes on, given a bed and a hard cock you become a little pussycat, spread and dripping for a hard stiff fuck." Rhett drawled, admiring Theresa, particularly her moist tits and ass. He restlessly rocked the flat of his pale cock against the press of her dark belly, invigorated his prick with pleasure tingles.

"That's not true…" Theresa said breathlessly, before gently tugging Rhett's short beard, forcing him to lower his head into a kiss. They kissed passionately, their lips murmuring, their tongues slipping against the others with silent need.

Rhett placed the flat of his under her tit, feeling the weight, his thumb rubbing Theresa's nipple. He clasped the firm dark nub between his thumb and forefinger and then slowly pulled. Theresa moaned, and pulled away from the kiss, instead studying his actions.

His hand left Theresa's heavy ebony tit and travelled leisurely down her smooth belly, until it was at her snatch. Rhett fingered through her swollen sex lips, flicking the tip of his forefinger against Theresa's clitoris. She swayed her hips back and forth, spreading her slickness on his already wet fingers.

Theresa's breasts heaved as her breathing became heavier from Rhett's touch. He was rough round so many corners- but his touch was gold as far as her cunt and body were concerned. Each flick of his finger made her feel like liquid honey was pumping through her veins, coursing through pussy. Lust-drunk, Theresa turned her attention to Rhett's stiff prick. Her fingers reached out and touched the cockhead; he grunted in response. Rhett straightened up, his hand reluctantly leaving Theresa's hot cunt.

"Mmm, I gave you an order earlier; I want you on your knees, sucking my cock."

"I don't-"

"If you want to be fucked like a good little mamma, you had better suck my cock.", Theresa pressed her tits against Rhett's chest before sliding down.

"I'm only obeying you because I do want to be fucked." Theresa grumbled, as she slowly fell to her knees. One small dusky hand pressed against Rhett's tanned thighs and the other cupped his balls, and slightly squeezed.

"I know, that's why you're my slut." Rhett said in a low husky voice, aroused by Theresa's surrender to his demands.

Theresa's wet afro, shone like a black halo, framing her dark beautiful face- that face, with plump bowed lips that gravitated teasingly close to his throbbing prick.

Theresa ran the tip of her nose lightly against the length of Rhett's cock, before her hand left his throbbing balls and then met the base of Rhett's dick.

Rhett closed his eyes, this time; he was going to stay firmly in control, even if it killed him. That morning, if anyone was going to lose control, it was Theresa.

"You have ten seconds to get those lips round my cock.", Rhett growled fiercely.

Theresa's eyes twinkled with a wicked glint as she opened her lips and sucked him into her hot wet vacuum. Her other hand pumped his shaft at the base, stoking up a pleasing friction.

Rhett exhaled, "Yeah, that feels so good, touch yourself Theresa. "

Rhett looked down, and saw that Theresa was caressing the place between her thighs, rocking against her own fingers.

They moaned in unison, losing themselves in the moment.

As if in discomfort, Theresa gagged and swallowed around Rhett's firm dick; spasms of pure bliss invigorated his shaft. He looked down and saw Theresa appeared to be trembling; her tits rose and fell as she was gently bucking against her own hand- she then stilled from her climax.

Rhett fought to control a surge of arousal.

"Bad girl, you made yourself cream?", Rhett controlled his breathing through his nostrils, he was so close…but he wasn't going to lose it.

Theresa released his cock from her mouth with a popping sound; she looked at him in earnest.

"Maybe."

"Which hand did you use? Show me.", Theresa, trembling from her orgasm, lifted her left hand.

Rhett chuckled, "A south paw, well, you know what a good teacher does to a south paw?"

Theresa felt a slight shudder of surprise as Rhett grabbed her left wrist and pulled her to her feet. Her legs felt like there was no bone. He pinned her wrist against the tiled wall by the tub, and then stealthily found her other wrist and pulled it up, and then placed both wrists in one rough grip, above her head.

"Put one leg out Theresa, just here, on the edge." Rhett's one free hand cupped her under the crook of her knee and lifted it onto the ledge of the bathtub, so that Theresa had one leg hoisted up, with her foot on the crook of the bathtub, exposing the pink inner folds of her pussy.

"Good, now answer me. What does a good teacher do to a south paw?"

"They act nicely to her and show her how to hold stuff properly." Theresa smirked cheekily, her attention flicking to his cock, then back to his stern gaze. She gazed at him defiantly, trying not to lose herself in his mesmerizing cobalt-blue eyes.

Rhett appeared to be in good humor, not genuinely mad, which made Theresa feel relaxed. So she cried in surprised when she saw one of Rhett's tanned hands spank her dark breasts; a numb pain warmed her tit.