Fontana Dam

She must have tasted herself on me, in my mouth, for I was glazed and drenched, but her kisses were, if possible, even more hungry than before. Her hand went to my crotch, where she caressed my member though the cloth, and cupped my swollen balls in her hand. She then turned, and, taking me by the hand, took me out of the kitchen to a circular staircase, leading me upstairs.

I drank in her beauty as I followed, her fine curves softened with the years but ever more enticing as I thought of Rubens and the masterpieces of the Renaissance. I could see her thighs glistening a bit with wetness as she walked before me, wondering if it was my saliva or her nectar that graced them. She let me into a bedroom from the past, complete with mahogany furniture and four-poster bed, turning back the comforter. Then she kissed me again and slid my shorts down and off, my heavy cock springing free for a moment then supported by her hand, which caressed the shaft and smeared my precum along her palm. She lay back then on the fine cotton sheets, and still silent, spread her legs and beckoned to me.

I approached her slowly, gently, kissing first the inside of her knees, back and forth, moving slowly and deliciously up her thighs. I could hear her starting to moan again, and as I circled her sodden center I slid my hands beneath her, lifting her to my mouth. I sucked and licked and kissed to the very edge of her pleasure, then down her taint and kissed her tight rosebud, then licking my way up again. I blew coolly through pursed lips upon her wetness, and smiled as I watched her lips swell and part, her lovenub pushing outwards through the soft folded skin. Humming now deep in my chest, I licked her again and heard her gasp. She grabbed my head with her hands and began pulling me up her body. I resisted, but gradually moved up between her legs, my kisses on her mons again, then her navel, then to her breasts, where I alternated, kissing first one, then the other, then sucking, then biting lightly. She began to writhe beneath me and I could, honestly, not wait much longer, for my cock ached to be encased in that slick silken tunnel as much as she wanted it inside her.

As I was poised over her, I looked again into her eyes, and saw a lust and hunger that seemed to draw me in. My mouth met hers just as the swollen head of my cock touched her center, and I began to rock against her, my tongue pressing into her mouth gently, gradually, while my cock did the same below. She sucked on my tongue and arched to meet me but I kept the same tantalizing pace, just a little more with each thrust, until she began to writhe again, my cockhead now warm within her, then almost out, then a bit deeper. She felt so warm, so slick, so good as I felt her clasping me and I began to give in to the motion, the desire, the passion. Soon we were sliding together, my cock buried to the hilt, my balls bouncing against her as I felt myself tightening toward an impending explosion. Faster, deeper, my textured veined shaft grazing her swollen clit with each thrust. Her moans became soft yelps that intensified and her cry of “NOW” triggered hot thick jets from me that splashed hard against her inside walls and filled her. Still thrusting as I softened, I could feel and even hear my cum squishing out of her with each movement. I held myself above her and in her until my cock slid out, finally, and rolled to my side lest I crush her.

I gazed at her, her eyes closed, the flush still in her cheeks, as her breathing returned to normal. I caressed her hair and she opened her eyes and smiled at me. I smiled back, and knew I had found something of immeasurable worth.

We both must have dozed, for when I next opened my eyes it was to fading sunlight. I roused her with a kiss, and reminded her that I needed to return the raft. We dressed, she dropped me at the landing, and we kissed once more. As she drove away, I realized that I knew neither her full name, nor address, nor phone number. Well, I knew what she did and where she worked, it shouldn’t be that hard to find out. Or at least, contact her and find out if she wanted to meet again.

I put my raft up on the rack and went into the shop. “Hey, I’m back, pretty tricky river today!” I said. “Raft got scraped a bit but it’s okay.”

“Good to see you, boy, we was getting worried! Figured you’d pulled up or something when we didn’t see you downstream. Nobody’s been able to make it all the way today, and we was about to send the Sheriff out looking for you!” The owner and his help looked genuinely concerned and not a bit relieved

“Nah, I got hung up but thank goodness somebody came and helped me,” I ventured, “You wouldn’t by any chance know the name or address of a woman named Marcie, would you? She is a Latin teacher at a local school, and I’d like to send her a thank-you card.”

Well, you could have heard a pin drop in that usually noisy shop. The owner was visibly pale as he asked “Wouldn’t a been drivin an old Ford wagon, would she?”

“Yep, that’s her,” I said hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

His response sent shivers up and down my spine.

“Son, that’d be Marcie Mack, if that’s who I think it is. Or at least her ghost. Folks round these parts claim to see her, now and again, up on the ridge above the gorge. Thing is, she used to live in the old Sutter place, a bit of an old medicine woman I guess, some might say a witch. The place burned down a few years ago.

Anyhows, about twenty years ago she went out in a big storm to help the McCaufry woman who was birthin a baby. Hit a slick and went over the edge. We found the old wagon but ne’er a trace of old Marcie. Folks say she still haints the ridge though, helping folks in trouble.”

I may never understand what happened on the ridge that day. I do know that I will never forget Marcie and what she did for me. To this day I remember her, sometimes in private moments reliving our passion. She still makes me cum as violently as I ever have, and I hope, maybe someday, that we can walk that ridge together.