Dead Write Ch. 05

"With a teacher like you, what little boy wouldn't pay attention? I know a big boy that's willing to... Sorry."

"Willing to what? Go ahead, say it... I want you to."

He smiled and looked into the sparkling eyes watching his lips. "I know a big boy that's willing to... improve his performance just for you."

She blushed, met his eyes, held them for long seconds, and then looked out her door window. "I bet you're an apt pupil."

After miles of electric silence, Sherry said, "I like your mother. I see where you get your sense of humor. She really loves Chris. She’s going to work with him in between the days that I see him. I bet you didn't get away with much growing up. Sometimes I felt like she could read my mind."

"No, I couldn't get anything by her, and still can't. She’s a keen judge of character."

They began family history chitchat that lasted until they arrived at the restaurant. Sitting in a secluded booth with a view of the lake, they talked memories -- childhood, adolescent, college, family and marriage.

"You'll never believe who called me yesterday, Sam. A lawyer working for Bob's second wife. She's divorcing him, and they want me to testify about his spousal abuse. I really don't want to but... I feel obliged to help another woman." She laughed uneasily, and said, "In fact, I owe her a debt of gratitude for taking him away. I was hoping I'd never have to see him again." She reached across the table and covered his hand. "I was wondering if you'd go with me for… moral support," she giggled.

"What's funny about that?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon, I told you what I was thinking, now 'fess up."

"Okay, I was thinking,” she swallowed hard, “or you could come for immoral support."

He turned his hand over and gently squeezed hers. "I'll be there in whatever supporting role you prefer,” he said, while tracing his thumb back and forth over her knuckles.

They continued to talk, breaking the link only when the waiter brought their food.

The meals gradually disappeared amid discussions, laughs and samples offered from the other’s fork. When finished, they walked side by side down to the lake and out onto the restaurant's pier, past young lovers huddled in private communion.

Leaning against the rail, they watched the red sun slip beneath the liquid horizon.

Sam decided to put voice to an idea. "Sherry, you know what I think is foolish?"

Watching the top of the sun disappear into the water, Sherry said, "No, what?"

"Acting like this is our first date."

She turned on the rail and faced him. "Oh really. How do you think we should be acting?"

"This feels more like our third month together. We know each other, fairly well. I'm very fond of you. And you idolize me."

"Don't press your luck, Mr. Hornet." Sherry moved closer, seeming to test his endurance. "So how do people act in the third month of dating?"

Sam didn't speak. Instead, he nodded toward the twenty-something couple that looked conjoined at the lips, hips and everywhere in between.

In a voice filled with mock bewilderment, she said, "And if we act like that, what's the advantage?"

"Initially... feeling loved." Sam put one arm around her shoulders and the other hand on the small of her back. Burying his face her hair, he said, "Ultimately... feeling a little heaven on earth."

Sherry didn't protest. She did wrap her arms around his waist and hug him tight, almost fearfully tight.

Sam experienced the rush of familiar excitement mixed with new. He craved this contact, and renounced his go-slow plan. "This feels so nice." Her hair tickled his lips.

"Mmmm, Yes it does. I feel like a schoolgirl."

"You feel like a woman. A beautiful woman."

He bent down and she tipped back. The tender kiss lingered. His right hand played in her tresses; the other stroked her back. Her hands moved up and made small, insistent circles on his shoulder blades. Tongues began to dance, taking turns as the lead partner. It was their first public display to the world, declaring "I am hers" and "I am his."

They broke apart when the incendiary embrace became unbearable.

"So... where did you learn about appropriate behavior during the third month of dating?" Sherry asked, a trifle breathless.

"Oldgeezers.com."

Laughing, she took his arm, and they strolled to the truck in the summer twilight.

Sam guided Sherry to the driver's side and made her enter through his door. Laughing, she tried to slide all the way over to the passenger side. Sam grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. After a minor struggle, with shrieks of ticklish persuasion, she let him buckle her in place beside him.

"You're such a brute, Sam." She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

He drove home with one hand on the wheel and the other around Sherry. His fingers caressed her bare shoulder, neck and cheek. As they turned into the farm, the moon began to peek over the horizon. Its crown, magnified by the rising heat, appeared four times the normal size.

"Sherry, it looks like a full moon tonight."

She sat upright. "Wow, it's huge!"

"How 'bout a horseback ride? I know a great place to stargaze, moongaze or,” he waggled his eyebrows, “gaze into my eyes. Your choice."

She gave him a sideways glance, "Give me a pin so I can let some air out of your ego. I can look at your eyes any old time. But that moon... I'd like to see that." She looked down at her skirt. "But I can't ride in this."

"If you don't mind wearing Jan's clothes, we kept some here for occasions like this."

"If it's okay with you, it's okay with me." Excited by the prospect of adventure, she kissed his cheek, taking advantage of the third month rule. "Show me to the tack room and the horses and I'll saddle them up while you change. Bring my clothes down here and I'll change in the barn."

Impressed by her assertiveness, Sam said, "Sounds like a plan."

Compared to the cool truck, the barn seemed oppressive as they walked side by side down the asphalt alley. Sam began to sweat and Sherry's arms glistened. He brought Sadie and Buster out from their stalls, and carried out the saddles and blankets before Sherry chased him away to retrieve the clothes from the house.

Stopping at the barn door, Sam turned back to watch her skilled movements prepare the mounts. Maybe it was being raised on a farm, where hard work and sweaty bodies were the norm and prissy women weren't tolerated, that made the sight of a laboring woman sensuous. Or maybe it was the fact that Jan never really wanted a horse, she only tolerated them. She rode because he liked to. It was something they could do together, after his skin cancer forced them to sell the boat to lessen his sun exposure. They had enjoyed the late night rides, the swaying motion similar to the gentle rocking of the waves. But Jan held no great affection for the animals. Watching Sherry tend to the horses was refreshing. She talked to them, stroked them, and enjoyed their company. He wanted to stay and observe, but she angrily waved at him to get moving.

'She must think I'm watching to make sure she does it right.' Sam waved back before he turned away.

They hadn't planned on being out so late. Mother had thoughtfully left the kitchen light on for him. He tiptoed upstairs and peeked into the spare room. Chris was tucked in for the night. Sam moved on, treading lightly down the hall towards his old room.

His mother's bedroom door creaked opened. She stood squinting in the light, wearing the pink robe his father had given her more than a decade ago. "What’s goin' on, Sam?”

"I'm getting a change of clothes. We're going to ride up to the pond."

She smiled, "I like her, Sam. She's a smart cookie... and sweet. She's really good with Chris. I can tell she loves children. But Sam... she's too good for the likes of you." She turned back in and closed the door.

Sam leaned his head against the jamb. "I love you, Ma."

"I love you too, Son."

He collected the clothes and changed into shorts and a tee-shirt. When he returned to the barn Sherry was just tightening the last cinch. "What can I do to help?" He grinned.

"Good timing, Sam. I just finished." She wiped her arm across her damp forehead, the perspiration stains around her neck and arms and the clinging fabric of her top only served to make her more appealing.

"Well, since I can't help get the horses ready," he said, bouncing her folded clothes in his palm, "maybe I can help --"

Sherry laughed, "You wish, cowboy.” She grabbed the pile from him and walked into the tack room. Without looking back, she said, "Nice legs, by the way."

While she changed, Sam walked the horses outside into the night breeze. A few minutes later, Sherry walked out in shorts and tee-shirt. The billowy top did little to hide the fact that she had removed her bra. The natural bounce of her freed breasts against the white fabric drew his eyes.

Looking at her damp face, he said, "You look enchanting."

"Enchanting? Wake up Sam. I'm not Cinderella." She gave him the crooked smile, and said, "I bet you say that to all the braless women in tee-shirts."

She'd caught him looking. "No... Only the braless women in that tee-shirt." He handed her Sadie's reigns. "I'm glad your not Cinderella because I ain't no Prince Charming." He swung up into Buster's saddle. "And given the choice between a princess and a scullery maid, I'd take the maid every time."

Sherry mounted, and asked, "What about an Indian princess?" Not waiting for an answer, she kicked Sadie into a trot, stealing a head start.

Kicking Buster, he said, "Hey, Little White Dove, wait up."

They rode quietly side by side. The rising moon behind them kept Sherry’s face in shadow. They each had a wheel rut to follow along the slight incline of the hayfield. Sherry’s thighs flexed in the stirrups, her torso swayed above the saddle.

She took a deep breath and tipped her head back. "You have a lot more stars out here than I have in the city."

"Of course I do. I have a lot more room out here. But I can see the stars any old time." He continued to watch her.

"Sam... Sam, what am I going to do with you?" Sherry turned to look at him -- longingly he hoped. Suddenly, she kicked Sadie, and shouted, "Race ya!"

The thudding hooves left Sam coughing up dust. "Heeeyaa!" Buster leaped into a gallop.

As they pounded along the shallow ruts, the scenery passed in a blur of shadowy fence posts. Buster began to overtake the smaller Sadie. Sherry glanced back to check the competition, so Sam pulled up slightly to let her win. Besides, the view was much better from second place.

Sherry reined Sadie to a trot at the end of the lane. Sam and Buster close behind.

"I win!" she said, a glaze of moonlight on her face.

"Nice riding White Dove. What did you win?"

A thoughtful moment and then, "I want to see more of you, Running Bare. That’s bare, spelled b-a-r-e." She winked.

"Oh, I get it. One of the three-month-rules must be that from now on you can be a cock-tease." He laughed, but she remained smiling and silent.

"The pond's over here." Sam turned Buster down a hedgerow and Sadie fell in behind.

They turned left, cut across an open field, and approached a one-acre pond, reflecting the brilliant moonlight. On the opposite bank, a granite outcrop made a ten-foot cliff at the water's edge. The sides of the ledge tapered down to a grassy shoreline.

"To really appreciate the moonlight we have to be on the other side." Sam pointed to the right. "We can get there by going around the long way, or, if you really want some fun, we can swim across.” He rode closer to see Sherry’s face, and asked, “Have you ever ridden a swimming horse? They could use some cooling off, and so could I."

Even in the dark, her delight and excitement were easily seen. "No I haven't, but I've always wondered what it would be like. What do we do?"

Sam dismounted. "First we take off the saddles and leave them here. Then, all you need to do is get her started and hang on. The horses are used to this, and know the way. Don't pull on the reigns, just hug her neck and squeeze your knees. Try to keep your weight centered. If you float off, swim away to the side so you don’t get kicked.” He raised an eyebrow, and asked, “You can swim, can't you?"

Wearing the now familiar get-real look, she said, "Yes, I can swim." Rubbing her hands together, she squeaked, "This is so cool."

After removing their shoes and socks and the horses saddles, Sam gave Sherry a leg up onto Sadie and then he mounted Buster. "You ready?"

"Ready!"

Sam nudged Buster into the water. Sherry and Sadie followed alongside. The water level gradually deepened, and refreshed them inch by inch.

Soon, the horses were swimming. The only sounds were the animals' huffing breaths and the gurgling water around their bodies. The surge of muscular kicks pulsed beneath them. Rippled water twinkled in the reflected light. Reaching a foothold on the other side, the horses clambered out, each still carrying its rider.

"Wow! That was so cool, Sam! What a blast," said Sherry, moon-beaming a smile.

Sam thrilled at giving her this new experience. "That is pretty neat, isn't it."

They slid off the horses and let them drink their fill, then tethered them to a tree. Sadie and Buster flicked their tails, wagged their heads and shook their hides to shed excess water.

Drenched in moonlight, the dripping humans walked up to the top of the granite boulder and faced one another. They openly stared, taking time to enjoy the view of matted clothing. Rivulets streamed down their legs and pooled around their bare feet.

Sherry's shameless gaze resembled the wanton desire Sam had seen in the bedroom only four days ago. It seemed like ages. He pulled off his shirt and wrung out the excess water. Goose bumps grew on his chilled skin. Laying out the shirt to dry, he sat down and faced the shimmering pond. "Go ahead and wring yours out. I won't look, Scout's honor." He held up his right hand in the Scout salute.

"Funny, I can't picture you as a Boy Scout."

Hearing water rain down on the rock, he said, "Actually, I wasn't," and turned for a glimpse of her naked torso.

"Sam!" She whacked his face with the wet shirt.

Unsatisfied, he turned away and whined, "Peeking is allowed in the third month.”

There was movement to his right, so he peeked again. Four feet away, Sherry sat down and faced him, topless. She leaned back on her hands. The reflective water danced waves of light over her ivory breasts. He tried not to leer. Instead, he turned and placed his feet against hers. The cool surfaces mismatched in size, he bent his toes over hers. She wiggled them.

Boldly, her eyes poured over him. "Are you really 45?"

"Yes, I really am," he said, and frowned. His eyes wandered up her tanned legs, seeming even darker when compared to his pasty-white shins. "And you are... thirty?"

"No."

"Seventeen."

"No!"

"Twenty-nine?"

"Yes, I've been twenty-nine for seven years... are you satisfied now?"

Sam drifted into one of his dark moods. "I haven't been satisfied since Monday," he reminded her.

She smiled.

He asked, "Are you going to run off with a younger man?"

"Are you going to run off with a younger woman?" She countered.

"I'm not running off anywhere. I have a son to raise." The conversation had taken a serious turn, much more serious than he’d intended.

Sherry sat up and inched forward between Sam's legs. She lifted his left foot, placed it on her lap and began to work her fingers into its sole. "Yes, You do have a son to raise don't you, Sam. That's a huge responsibility. And you don't want some flighty bimbo wasting your time. Is that what you're saying?" With her eyes fixed on his blue-veined foot, she asked, "What do you want?"

Sam watched her fingers push between his toes. The pleasant sensation both relaxed and stimulated. His eyes wandered to her breasts, swaying with the motion of her hands. "This ain't bad for a start," he said, postponing a serious answer to her question.

Sherry put that foot aside and started on the other.

A familiar sorrow continued to grow, despite the pleasant massage. Sam pulled his foot away, turned and inspected the moon's dappled surface through watery eyes. "I want what I lost."

The moon looked so close, and yet impossible to touch. "Sometimes...my marriage feels like a trip to the moon. I can remember the effort. I remember how long it took to get there, the excitement when we arrived. And now... I'm stuck back on earth, wanting a return trip, and it really sucks knowing that no one has ever gone back. No one ever gets to walk on the moon twice."

Sherry stood up and moved behind him. The night air was filled with the sounds of crickets and peepers. Lightening bugs floated fairy-like over the pond surface. The vision was lovely, but it didn't offer the near weightless thrill as dancing on the moon.

He heard shuffling, and then Sherry pressed against his back, encircled him in a bear hug, and kissed his shoulder. Whispering in his ear, she said, "Sam, those lunar missions always had three people. And I feel like I've been to the moon too. You and Jan were the two lucky astronauts that went to the surface and shared a glorious experience, while I was that third one, orbiting overhead, lonely and envious."

Her hands slipped down his stomach and worked open the button on his shorts. She pulled down the zipper and slid her warm hand over his cool penis. "I know where you've been, Sam. I've watched you. I may not know how it feels to walk on the moon, but I know how it feels to be weightless.” Sherry moved in front, and she was nude. “I know I can put you in orbit and bring you back to earth. I'm in love with you, Sam Colton. And I know the way to the moon."

Straddling Sam's lap, she bent down and pulled the damp shorts from his legs. She knelt over his thighs and leaned against his chest. Holding his head between her hands, she kissed him with an urgency he hadn't felt from her before. One hand moved to his growing erection and stroked it to readiness. The heated kiss continued as he felt her warm moisture cover him. He cupped her bottom. His fingers kneaded the fleshy globes, while helping her lift and relax as she rode him. Sam's lips left her mouth to suckle a breast. Sherry moaned in reaction, expressing a needful passion. His right hand slipped between them to plunder her clitoris. The moans became continuous, as she squeezed him inside and out. Sherry leaned back on her arms, and increased the speed of her thrusting. He caressed her stomach, chest and pubis, until, snapping upright, she screamed out a thunderous climax, driving him to explode within her. His lips sought hers. The scream of release filled his mouth and lungs. They clung desperately to each other in the moonlight, feeling weightless.