Between Red Clay and Blue Sky

Author's note: this is a standalone story. But it wraps up the saga of Kent and Paula if you enjoyed the previous stories, "Between Love and Hate" and "Between Better and Worse".

The house was quiet when Kent got home. Only his dog came out to greet him. There were no shouting children following close behind, no lovely wife waiting for him on the porch. This made him nervous, a little scared even. He went inside to find Paula sitting at the kitchen island, halfway into a cocktail. Not good.

"Hello, honey. How was your trip?" She asked. There was a tone in her voice that put him off.

"It was great. I got to meet the governor and Senator Inhofe and our state representative. Everyone was really enthusiastic about the project. Where are the kids?"

"They're at your mother's." She regarded him curiously. Her eyes were slightly puffy and bloodshot. "Who else was there?"

"Oh, the mayor, the county commissioner, members of the city council and the school board. The football coach from Oklahoma State was there with some of his players."

"Anyone there I might know?"

"Emily and Bill were there for the chamber of commerce. John from the bank. Christine was there, too. You remember Christine?" Kent felt beads of sweat begin to form on his brow.

"Sure, I remember Christine. Did you get to do anything fun?"

Kent discovered a lump in his throat. He swallowed to clear it. 'Well, yeah, we had dinner at a really interesting restaurant. It was a speakeasy during prohibition."

"You and Christine?"

"Yeah. They served some fun drinks there. Have you ever had a tumbleweed?"

"Never have. What happened then?"

"Well, we went to her hotel room."

"And?"

"And I spent the night there."

"M'kay, thank you for not lying to me."

"I am so sorry."

"I know you are, honey. And I forgive you. It would be hypocritical of me to say that you aren't entitled to some extracurricular activity. Are you going to see her again?"

"Absolutely not."

"It's fine with me if you do. But keep this in mind. She's the one who ratted you out. Go unpack your bags and I'll get dinner ready."

*****

Paula said she forgave him but her behavior told him otherwise. Over the next few weeks a cold war settled on the house. She was polite but not friendly, affectionate but not loving. The warmth and companionship he had come to expect from her, that he relied on, was gone and in its place the ache of loss.

His waking hours were miserable. It affected his work, his relationships with their children. Mostly he was sad but sometimes he was mad. Damn right it's hypocritical, he fumed, considering the way she slept around before they were married. He took her back too, didn't he? Well, eventually he did. There were long years spent apart while he seethed with resentment toward her, when he thought of her at all. Still, he made just one mistake and she seemed willing to destroy him over it or to drive him away. Is that what she wanted? Is that what he wanted? Finally he got up his nerve and asked her directly. What could he do to make things right?

"I've already moved past it," she lied to his face. "If you are still hung up then I suggest you figure something out. No need to invite me to your pity party."

Kent had to fight back the angry words that rose to his lips. He stalked away in a cloud of bees and cooped himself up in the utility room he used as a study. For a long time he aimlessly flipped through papers and projects and examined his collections. Then he looked up and noticed his father's old copy of "The Virginian" and pulled it down.

He opened it to a random page and began to read. It was his father's favorite book and so, for a while, it was his favorite too. The title character of the story embodied what it was to be a man and, as a child, Kent longed to live up to that ideal. He wished Dad was still around to hear his troubles, to give him advice. But he already knew what the old man would say. He made a promise. He broke the promise. Deflecting his guilt on her is not what a man should do. This wouldn't be easy to fix. But he had to try.

So that Saturday morning he rose quietly at dawn and prepared a special breakfast. She was already sitting up when he brought it to her on a tray.

"What's this for?" She asked, smiling genuinely for the first time in a while. Maybe she was feeling guilty about their earlier conversation.

"You're going to need your strength this weekend, love. I'm taking you to the King Corral."

"Oh, honey. I know we've been wanting to go there. But we have so much to do this weekend."

"No we don't. Grandma's coming to watch the kids and she can deal with the contractors too. So you and me, riding into the sunset, let's do this."

"We just... I just can't."

"That is why I am going to beg." Kent went down on one knee by the bed and took her hand. "My dear, will you make me the happiest man in the world, again, by going with me to Oklahoma's premier agritourism destination?"

Paula could not refuse his plea so she packed their suitcases while Kent got the kids dressed and fed. She insisted on driving her car which was too bad, since that meant there would be a console between them. As they made their way, he couldn't help but admire her profile. They'd known each other half their lives and she still took his breath away.

"I can't imagine my life without you in it," he said, before he could catch himself.

Her smile outshined the morning sun. "I feel the same about you, hon."

He decided not to press his luck and focused instead on the ribbon of red clay that rolled out before them and the impossibly blue sky that hung overhead.

As Kent expected, it is hard to be in a bad mood while riding horseback through the green country of eastern Oklahoma. Or while soothing sore muscles in the resort's big whirlpool spa. Or while dining on ribeye so tender you could cut it with a fork. Or while sipping whisky sour and being serenaded by singing cowboys. He kept his arm around her shoulders while they drank and chatted with the other guests. She kept her arm across his lower back, her hand on his hip.

As the entertainment wound down they clasped hands and looked in each other's eyes. They shared one thought and, without a word, went to put thought into action. The tension between them was indescribable as they walked arm in arm to their room. Once behind the closed door, Paula reached up under her dress and pulled down her panties. She held them up and rubbed them all over his face. He relished her scent and the feel of the warm, wet fabric on his skin. She folded the undergarment and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

She went to the restroom while he undressed. When she returned she pulled the chair away from the vanity. He took a seat on the stiff leather and she stepped over his knees to straddle him. In a single motion she impaled herself on his spike, sliding down the length of him until her soft cheeks touched his thighs. She wiggled side to side to get a little more of him inside her. Her sweet pussy, still tight after ten years and two kids, enveloped him like warm honey. He had to steel himself to not give up the game right then. She sat there and rested, giving them both a moment to compose themselves.

She lifted her face to his and kissed him, her tongue pushing past his lips to explore his mouth. He unzipped her red velvet dress and lifted it over her head. His hands were free to explore her shoulders and back while she ran hers through his black mane of hair. She kissed and licked and bit his neck, a little too hard but he didn't stop her. He brought his hands down to her ass and squeezed her cheeks, pulling them apart and feeling his cock slip just a little deeper into her puss. She groaned and rested her head on his shoulder. Oh, he was going to fuck his slut of a wife tonight.

She was still wearing her bra so he pushed her back just far enough to squeeze her breasts together. The front clasp came loose and the cups fell away, revealing her juicy tits. Paula began rocking slowly in his lap as she pushed her chest up for him to sample. He circled one of her nipples with his tongue before taking it in his mouth. He suckled softly at it and pulled away, letting it pop out of his mouth with a smacking sound. He did this several times before switching breasts, giving her other nipple the same treatment. Then he kissed all over her chest, her shoulders and neck, her chin, her cheek, her forehead, her nose, her sweet lips.

One hand caressed her hair while she rocked and bounced on his cock. The other stroked her back and hips, dipping down to cup her soft smooth glutes. As he wandered into the cleft between her cheeks he thought he noticed a slickness there, near her tiny pink rosebud. Was it from perspiration? He rubbed his thumb and middle finger together and felt a distinct lack of friction. There was some sort of lotion there. Much as he wanted to explore further, he resolved to steer clear of her back forty. If she had anything planned for it he didn't want to spoil the surprise.

Instead, he brought his hands down to her thighs and then to her calves. He grasped her ankles and brought them so the tops of her feet were resting on his knees. She used this leverage to fuck herself more vigorously. She wasn't holding anything back, rising nearly to the tip of his dick then falling on him heavily with a sigh. He brought his hands under her arms to hold her by the shoulders, giving her a little boost on the way up and a little more oomph on the way down. Of course she took it. She could take anything he gave her. Nobody fucked like Paula. And he was damn sure nobody ever fucked her like he did.

He leaned forward and cupped her ass, then he lifted her and rose to his feet. She groaned and slumped against his chest. He held her there a moment before starting to screw her again. She wrapped her legs around his waist and crossed her ankles behind his back. Then she began pushing back against his thrusts, using his own hips for leverage. He watched her in the vanity mirror, watched her writhing in his arms. What a fantastic piece of ass she was. He walked her over to the vanity and rested her ass on the cherry wood counter. She leaned back against the mirror, eyes closed, lips moving wordlessly.

He loved the way her tits jiggled as they fucked. He took one of her nipples between finger and thumb and rolled it around. She moaned with pleasure. Then he tugged on it hard, letting it slip out of his grasp. The gasp of surprise was just leaving her lips when he smacked her hard across the breast. She reflexively brought her arm up to defend herself. Then she put her hand back down on the counter and pushed her chest out for him to do what he wanted. It did not reflect well on his character that he took pleasure in the way she yelped and flinched as he pinched and twisted and slapped her nipples. But he knew her and he knew she enjoyed a rough hand as much as a gentle one, sometimes even more.

He relented when he saw a tear forming in her eye. Then he bent down to kiss and lick those poor battered cherries. She cradled his head as he nursed and whispered in his ear, "Let's get in the bed."

He pulled out and helped her to her feet. She led him to the bed and pulled back the covers, then got up on all fours. In one thrust he pushed in her from behind and started banging. She began pushing back and before long took over the motion and he just rested his hands on her beautiful ass, letting her fuck herself on his big stiff dick. He thought about how easily he had been tempted by the other woman, his ex-girlfriend from years ago. What was so fucking hot about her that he would risk everything to sleep with her?

There were many things that bound him to Paula. Her beauty of course, but also her intelligence and sense of humor. She was a good friend to him and a great mother to his children. She looked after his interests and always took his side, even when he was wrong. But not the least of her qualities was her voluptuous body and the wonderful things she could do with it. He surveyed her shoulders, her swinging tits, her slender waist flaring to amazing hips and ass. He was a fool, a complete fool to risk all this on a stupid fling.

From between her cheeks, Paula's tiny pink butthole winked at him as his cock drove in and out of her sloppy wet pussy. He thought he could see it glisten with whatever substance she might have put back there. Could he imagine never getting to fuck her again? Never giving it to her doggy style? Never coming in her whore mouth? Never sticking it in her greased-up ass? There was a time he took it for granted. Now he never wanted to go without it. And he sure as fuck couldn't tolerate her taking it to another guy. But if he fucked around again, that would be a very real possibility.

"How you doing back there?" She asked over her shoulder. "'Bout ready to finish?"

"Yeah, sure. What you want me to do?" He replied, hoping the eagerness in his voice didn't betray him.

She eased forward off of his dick, onto her stomach. She turned over on her back and spread her legs wide. "I want you to fuck me real good and fill me up, OK?"

He lay between her legs and got into her groove. He could last all night if he had to, at least he could when he was younger. And she could go all night, when she wanted to. But early in their relationship Kent learned it was best to let her tell him how long she wanted it, and sometimes how hard. If she was ready to take his load then he was ready to give it to her. While he railed her he felt her fingertips exploring between them, fidgeting at her clit, stroking her lips, teasing the crown of his cock head as it emerged on the outstrokes. Yeah, he was going to fill her up all right.

Suddenly, Paula pushed down slightly on his cock and at the same time slightly lifted her hips. Before Kent knew what was happening he was halfway up her ass. His momentum carried him nearly the rest of the way. He froze for a moment, his cock buried in her rectum, terrified that he might have slipped, might have hurt her. But he felt her heels pressing on the back of his thighs, trying to pull him deeper into her asshole. He let himself be guided and sank into her. Then he started to fuck in and out of her anus. Sure, he was hoping for some backdoor action. But he didn't expect it like this.

He kissed her tenderly while he sodomized her. Unlike her pussy, which fit his dick like a glove, her anus gripped him like a fist. He didn't fuck her ass with wild abandon but he did give her a good screwing there. Paula was groaning and writhing, her heels still pressing on his legs. Her fingers were working furiously in her pussy. He felt himself building up but he waited, waited for her to do her thing or for her tight hole to start to lose its slickness. He couldn't believe how good it felt, how excited it made him feel to enjoy this very rare treat. Thump, thump, thump... his hips thudded against her butt cheeks as his cock violated her anus, over and over.

He decided that the only thing better than being balls deep in your wife is to be balls deep in your wife's ass, to hear her grunting in orgasm while her sphincter clenches on the base of your dick. He let loose inside her, his throbbing cock pumping rope after rope into her spasming ass. As they lay together, catching their breath, he felt her tight anus pinching his cock as he went soft inside her.

"Who's the queen?" she whispered in his ear.

"You are, babe"

"Kindly don't forget it."

*****

Kent was behind the wheel when the loving couple left the King Corral. Paula lay sideways in the passenger seat, her hands encircling his arm across the console.

"Are we friends again?" She asked, looking up at him.

"We're always friends."

"Always? Even when you're mad at me?"

Kent thought about this. "Sometimes friends get mad at each other. If we weren't friends we wouldn't care, would we?"

She pressed her cheek against his bicep and shut her eyes. The red clay road stretched out before them. At the end of the road waited work and school and church and chores. There waited rough patches and tough decisions and bittersweet moments. But now they had the pleasure of each other's company and the memories of a weekend of lovemaking. And above it all hung a sky an impossible shade of blue.