Finding Grace

Grace issued a low moan as he pinched one of her nipples, with Jim now nuzzling her neck as he worked his way down to her breasts. He captured a nipple in his mouth, drawing it in and swirling his tongue around it. Grace was now lying prone on the bed, with Jim making love to her breasts while his hand unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She lifted up her hips, an invitation for Jim to slide off her pants and panties. Grace kicked them off, spreading her legs slightly. His hand went lower, cupping her sex and feeling the steamy heat that beckoned his head lower.

Jim was conflicted. He didn't want to stop licking and sucking on her breasts, but her invitation to the area below was too compelling. He reluctantly let go of her nipple and kissed her flat belly, going downward across her hairless sex to the nether lips, now coated with her slippery essence.

"Ohhhhh ..." the brunette gasped as the feather light touch of his tongue on her clitoris sent a high voltage current though her.

A chill went up Jim's spine as he heard Grace's moans of pleasure. His cock was rock hard, straining against his pants, as the air became thick with the smell of her sex. He was unrelenting with his tongue, Grace's head rocking back and forth with each stroke. Suddenly, the pleasure overwhelmed Grace, and her legs locked tightly around Jim's head, encasing him in a vise from which he had no desire to escape.

"Jim ... Jim ..." she cried, as her orgasm hit her in waves, with greater and greater intensity until she could take no more, her legs falling limp.

Jim staggered backwards, watching his lover's chest heaving as she gasped for breath. Jim never dreamed of sexual intimacy with Grace, and to now see her splayed on her bed, her pussy weeping droplets of dew, and her full breasts swaying with each breath that she took, made him feel an all-consuming lust for her.

He inched forward, standing in front of her and taking her hand and placing it against the crotch of his pants. Now sitting on the edge of the bed, she unzipped his pants, allowing them to puddle around his feet. She pulled down his boxer shorts, his engorged cock springing out, calling for her attention. She gripped the base of his cock with her right hand and started pumping, then lowered her head and took the bulbous head inside her mouth. Jim felt the warm wetness of her mouth and involuntarily thrust his hips forward. Grace accepted his length inside her, feeling the head pressing against the back of her throat.

It had been a long time since Grace had given oral sex, but her instinct was to press forward, opening her throat to his invasion. As her lips pressed against his pubic hair he felt the familiar tingle and then an irresistible urge to cum. He pulled out of her mouth, gasping.

"Oh my God, Grace ..."

He stilled himself, allowing the pounding in his chest to abate, and for him to catch his breath. He looked at her. Her breasts were perfect, the rounded contours displaying a fine sheen of moisture that shimmered in the reflected candlelight.

He put his hand behind her head, easing her down so she was lying flat on the bed. He then positioned himself so he could rub the head of his cock against her nether lips, wetting the head, and then splitting them open to allow his length into her. He began flexing his hips, them both enjoying the delicious friction, as they began the slow, inexorable climb to their release.

They moved as one, their sweat-soaked bodies sliding against one another as he thrust forward as she raised her hips to meet him. He wanted desperately to make this moment last, but the excitement of the first time and the softness of her velvety, wet channel made that an impossibility.

"Grace ... I .. I'm going to cum ... inside you."

"I don't care," she replied, using her hands to hold him deep inside her. She didn't care. Her house was a shambles, and likely to be taken back by the bank. She had only the moment, and the moment called for her to feed her longstanding sexual hunger and her need to be loved.

His body stiffened as his cock pulsed, sending his seed deep into her womb. A sense of warmth radiated through her as her lover now lay chest to chest against her. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him tight against her.

"Love me ... again," she implored, her need not yet satiated.

Chapter Three

The Foreclosure

The next morning was clear and bright. Grace had made a breakfast of fresh eggs (her chickens, miraculously, had survived the storm and were still laying eggs) and toast that she made in the oven. Jim was finishing his second cup of instant coffee.

"I think it's time for me to go. Cell service is back up. I'm going to have a rental car service pick me up here."

"I wish you could stay," Grace said wistfully.

"I have to get back to the office. Let me see what I can do about your mortgage."

They finished breakfast. Jim washed up and changed, and the two of them sat on the front porch, waiting for his ride to arrive. Grace's phone rang, a welcome sound indicating that cell service was back up. It was Britt, Grace's oldest daughter.

"Finally, I got through. I've been trying to call you ever since I heard that there were tornados in Missouri. I've been worried sick about you."

"I'm fine. Really. It's just a mess, that's all. The twister came close, but didn't hurt the house. I think we may have to re-roof, but I'm not sure I have the money to do it."

The mention of money reminded Britt that a foreclosure action was looming in the not too distant future. "So how was your visit from the bank?"

"Not so good. I don't think I'll be able to keep it.

"We could ... ummm ... take a second mortgage on Colin's service station and our cottage."

"Nonsense. There's no reason for you to put your home and business on the line. It's my battle, not yours."

"But ... our house ...".

Grace's eternal optimism rose to the surface. "It'll be fine. It'll work out ... somehow."

"You let me know if we can help. Promise?"

There was silence on the line as Britt awaited the answer.

"I promise," said Grace, while crossing her fingers. She had no intention of borrowing money her daughter didn't have.

Jim saw that Grace had hung up with her daughter. "Grace, I wish we could have gotten together under better circumstances." He pointed to the debris covered yard.

"I'm glad you came when you did."

"Well ... so long for now."

She wasn't sure she would see him again. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Don't cry," he said, kissing her on the cheek and tasting her salty tear.

Grace had the same foreboding feeling she had when Aaron left -- for good. Was this just another one night stand? Another memory to be dusted off in another twenty years?

Jim got into his taxi that would take him to the nearest car rental agency. Grace watched as the car backed out of her driveway. She couldn't bear to watch anymore, and went back into the house. It wasn't until nightfall that he turned the key to his condominium. It was Thursday, so he'd have to go into the office the next day after spending two of the most memorable days with Grace. Even though it was late, Jim made a pot of his favorite coffee. When the aroma of favorite beverage hit his nose he let out a long "ummmmmm." Two days without real coffee was torture, especially under stressful conditions (the instant coffee that Grace had was, as expected, awful). While the coffee was brewing, he went to his bedroom to retrieve his high school yearbook.

He fingered the embossed cover as he took the first sip of his coffee. "Garden City Bulldogs" it said, Class of 1999. He opened it and it fell open to Grace's page. "Grace Morton" (Grace's maiden name) was his favorite page, with the edges well-thumbed. He looked at the picture, and then conjured up her image in his mind. She had aged so beautifully. Her face a bit was thinner, and her hairstyle was comically 90's, but the sparkle in her eyes was the same. He didn't want to go to sleep. He became afraid that it was all a dream, and that he would wake up never having really known Grace. He wasn't sure what to do next. Then he thought of April. She was a good friend of Grace. Perhaps she could offer him advice. He went through his reunion materials and found her phone number as one of the organizers. He said "what the fuck" and called his old girlfriend.

"April?"

"Who is this?"

"Jim ... Jim Nathanson."

There was a long pause. "Jim?"

"Yes."

"Why are you calling?" Jim could picture that April was looking to see if her husband was within earshot of their conversation.

"I saw Grace a few days ago."

"Grace Larsen?"

"Yes." I visited Grace the day of the tornado."

"You were here?"

"Yes. My timing was a bit off."

"I'll say. Is Grace OK?"

"Yes ... yes. Her house got pummeled but it's fixable."

"I heard Grace is in trouble."

"She is. That's why I was visiting her. I'm with her bank."

"Ohhhh. So are you going to help her?"

"I'm trying."

"So what's up?"

"Do you think there's any chance that she might ..."

"Yes?" April interjected, as Jim's voice trailed off.

"She might ... she might be interested in hooking up with me?"

There was another long pause. The gears in April's mind were grinding. Grace ... with Jim? She remembered seeing Jim at the reunion though they didn't talk. He still looked good.

"Yes ... yes ... I think she'd be interested. She's been alone for a long time. You'd be a familiar face. She did remember you, didn't she?"

"Not at first, but she did."

"I'd go for it. Grace is a terrific person. She deserves to be happy."

"I'm so glad to hear it."

"Jim?"

"Yes."

"Don't fuck this up."

"I won't. How's Greg and the kids?"

April went off on a long diatribe as the two of them caught up on their respective lives. Jim was only half paying attention, as he was now thinking how he could approach Grace again. Instead of working, he spent the entire day at work deciding whether to call her or visit her in person. His co-workers, who peppered him with questions about the tornado, noticed that he distracted. Finally, his assistant of the last ten years, who had already experienced second hand the angst of Jim's divorce, went into his office and closed the door behind her.

"Jim."

"Nan."

"You're walking around like you have your head in your ass."

Jim snapped into the present. "Excuse me?"

"Listen, I know the tornado was traumatic, but you've seen much worse and I've never seen you like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like your mind is somewhere else. Where is it?"

Nan had pulled Jim's ass out of the fire more than once when he was going through his divorce. She was entitled to call bullshit on him, so Jim didn't take offense at her bluntness.

"Well ... I met a woman who I went to high school with ..." It all then came spilling out, the awkward introduction, the storm, the kiss, and then the sex. Nan sat impassively in her chair listening to Jim spill his heart out. He finished by telling her his current dilemma.

"Sounds like you're in love."

"I guess I am."

"Well ..." Nan rolled her eyeballs and left his office.

Two minutes later Jim phoned Grace.

"Grace."

"Jim."

"I miss you."

"It's only been a day, Jim."

"So that tells you how much you mean to me."

"Why ... thank you. You mean a lot to me, Jim."

"I'm sorry to report that there's not a whole lot I can do for you. The mortgage is already three months in arrears, and bank policy prevents me from extending the terms of your loan. I really tried Grace. I'm sorry I didn't come through."

"Well ... thank you for trying. What happens next?"

"They'll sell your note and then try to collect any deficiency from you. Given the state of affairs in Poplar Bluff, with the tornado and all, I'm not very optimistic about what your house will realize on a sale."

"How bad is it?"

"There's a chance that after the sale of the note that you'll be on the hook for a deficiency."

"No."

"I'm afraid so. I chatted with a local broker, and the market is quite soft right now."

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do." Grace was already wondering if her only option was to move to Cedar City to live with her daughter Britt.

"The sale should take place in 30 days, which should be ...". He counted ahead on the calendar. "Should be on September 15."

"I hope I'll see you again soon."

"You can count on that."

* * *

Sometime in late September Grace was gardening under the hot midday sun when she saw the familiar white and blue postal service truck approaching her mailbox. She waved, and the driver waved back. Grace went to the mailbox, using her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her brow.

"Good news for me, Carl?"

"Well, I do have a letter from Farmer's Bank. Registered mail. You're going to have to sign here," he said, pointing to a space on the receipt and holding a pen.

Grace signed, accepting the light envelope. He handed her the remainder of the mail.

"Good luck to you Grace." Carl was well aware of Grace's financial troubles, having heard them over a cup of coffee with her several months ago.

She didn't have the heart to open the envelope right away. She tucked it in her back pocket and went about finishing her chores.

Late that night, as she was undressing, she felt the envelope in her back pocket. She unfolded it and then stared at it, willing it to be good news. She slipped her finger under the back flap, tearing it open, and knowing it wouldn't be.

Dear Ms. Larsen;

We are writing to inform you that your loan, number F256938, was successfully sold at auction for $125,000, the full balance due. As a result, your obligation to Farmer's Bank has been fully discharged. You should be receiving a notification from the successful bidder within ten (10) business days. You will be required to vacate your premises no later than thirty (30) days after such notification.

Thank you for being a customer of Farmer's Bank.

Grace started weeping as she read the letter. Her house had been sold. The house that had been in her family for eighty years. The house that she grew up in, and the house where she raised her two daughters. The letter put and end to her unwavering optimism that somehow it would work out. She fell onto her bed and cried herself to sleep with her clothes on.

The next morning Bo was barking and licking her face.

"Bo, what's gotten into you?"

She looked at her clock. It was 10:30. She had slept for twelve hours.

She went downstairs to make a fresh pot of coffee. The letter weighed heavy on her mind. She couldn't fathom where to begin on packing a lifetime of memories. Then she heard knocking on the front door.

"Jim! What in heaven's name are you doing here?"

"Have you gotten the letter from the bank?"

"Of course. Didn't you send it?"

"No. The letter is generated from our service center in Kansas City. I was hoping to get her before you received it."

"I did get it. As soon as I get notified by the buyer, I'll have to get out in thirty days."

"Well ... about that ... I ... I have a confession to make."

"What is it?" There was a bit of impatience in Grace's tone. Even though Jim had tried to help, he couldn't stop the freight train, and he was the face of the bank, the bank that took her house.

"I'm the one that bought your mortgage."

"What?" Grace's head was spinning.

"It was a good deal ... really."

"I can't belie ..."

"I know this might feel sudden to you, but I've always had a crush on you, and our time together during the storm really solidified my feelings for you. I hope you don't view this as rash, but I know I'm in love with you. We've both already been around the block and I know for sure what I want."

Grace stared at her unexpected benefactor. She was speechless.

"What I want is you."

There were a torrent of thoughts going through Jim's head. He took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. He was forty-two. He was already insanely in love with Grace. There was no earthly reason not to do it.

"Grace ... will you marry me? I own a house I'm sure we'll be happy in."

She laughed. Her eyes glossed over with tears. She had resigned herself to losing her house. Now all of that had changed in an instant. She struggled to find the words.

She nodded her head, wiping the tears from her face. "I will ... I want this too."

Epilogue

Six Months Later

Little Grace was soaring in the air, the swing on the oak tree carrying the elated five-year old ever higher towards the clear, blue sky. Her mother, Britt, was standing behind, ready to push her again, as the young girl pleaded to go higher.

"She looks just like you," Colin, Britt's husband, commented to the older Grace, the resemblance unmistakable.

"And acts like you too," added Britt, all too aware of her mother's enthusiasm and impulsiveness.

"And I love her even more for that," said the older Grace, swelling with pride at the sight of her squealing granddaughter.

The freshly painted house stood proudly behind them, showing no traces of the storm that ravaged the neighborhood. "The house never looked better," Britt said with approval.

"Turns out Jim is a better handyman than he is a banker. He came out to the farm to foreclose, and ended up with me."

Jim gave a playful pat on the older Grace's behind. "I got the better of the deal."

His new wife traced the swell in her belly, pregnant at the age of forty-three. "Maybe you got more than you bargained for."