Harvest Moon

Carnell turned to face the open French door leading into their room and the bed in the middle of it. Still holding her and without breaking their kiss, he walked the two of them to the edge of the bed before he gently deposited her onto it.

"I want you," Sari whispered. Carnell had already unzipped the back of her business-casual dress and she had pulled her arms free from it before she slipped the garment over her hips and off her legs. Her pantyhose quickly followed, until she sat there in only her white lace brassiere and matching panties and a string of pearls around her neck.

Now, with hands left unsteady by passion overwhelming her nervous system and the adrenaline that coursed through her veins and made Miss Kitty wetter by the second, she tried to focus on the buttons of Carnell's shirt. He sensed her distractedness and reassigned her to the easier task of unbuckling his belt and tugging down the zipper to his jeans while he swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside.

With his belt loosened and his fly open, his Levi's dropped over his lean, muscled ass, his sinewy and his powerful thighs and gathered around his cowboy boots. Beneath his boxers, she saw a sizeable erection tenting the loose material. Carnell removed both boots and his jeans and crawled onto the bed beside Sari.

Immediately, she pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. Their mouths resumed their explorations as she pressed her panty-covered wetness onto Carnell's hardness and the silky boxers covering it, her legs astraddle his raised left thigh, grinding her mound into the juncture of his upper thigh and hipbone.

He could feel her dampness. He breathed in the sensual feminine bouquet of her arousal. Already, her face and the flesh from her neck to the slightly freckled hollow between her breasts were flushing as the pace of her breathing increased. With his right hand, he caressed her breast through her bra, then followed the arc of her waist to her flanks where his fingers disappeared beneath the waistband of her panties to knead the left hemisphere of her firm ass, causing Sari to moan as they kissed.

With his left hand, Carnell found the strap of her bra and followed it to its hook-and-eyelet snaps. Sari trailed her hand around her back to help out, but he had unhooked it before she got there. She sat upright for a moment, shrugged the straps off her shoulders and the garment fell away, revealing two beautiful orbs topped by puffy, bright pink nipples eager for attention. Carnell's eyes widened at the sight of them, and he took one in each hand, twisting, tweaking and caressing them as Sari's eyes focused on his. Her face took on a dreamlike countenance as she surrendered to her carnal needs.

Carnell sat up and drew a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, then gently sucking it. As he did so, Sari jammed the squishy gusset of her panties hard into his lower abdomen. She continued with progressively more force and tempo, as little mewling noises emanated from her throat.

Carnell reached his hand beneath the front of her panties and immediately felt the juices already coating her hairless mound. His fingers found the top of her slit and the hood of her clitoris. She pushed her pussy onto the pads of his fingers and rocked it quickly back and forth over them.

"Oh ..." she muttered as her movements became more ragged.

"Oh ... oh ...," she moaned louder as her hips assumed a tempo of their own.

"I'm gonna cum ...," she groaned as her hips clenched and drove Miss Kitty into his fingers and the point of his hipbone beneath that. Her abdomen and her legs shuddered as she moaned in ecstasy, her nipples jiggling inches from Carnell's face as each new spasm rippled through her.

When the rapture of her orgasm passed and the climactic rigor ebbed from her muscles, she fell limp onto Carnell, breathing heavily and kissing his neck and upper chest. She chuckled.

"Well this is new. In high school and junior college, it was always the guy who came in his underwear," she said.

Carnell just smiled and ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her damp brow.

"Babe, that was - you are - the hottest thing I ever saw," he said. "And you are more beautiful than I imagined in my sweetest or even my nastiest daydreams."

Sari's ardent grinding had made a corner of his boxers as sopping wet as her panties. He pulled his fingers from her drooling slit and licked her juices off of them, then kissed her, giving Sari the first taste of herself from a lover's mouth. The effect it had on her was immediate. As she kissed him, her hand slipped into the fly of his boxers and, for the first time, encircled the veiny girth of his hard manhood.

"We've got to get out of these wet things," she said, pushing his boxers down toward his knees and freeing his uncircumcised dick, its livid head struggling to peek from its foreskin, now slick with his precum and her abundant grool. She slid her face down Carnell's chest and washboard abs and licked his hardness a time or two before taking it into her mouth, something else she had never done.

For his part, Carnell hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and peeled away the sopping garment that was now plastered to her intimate parts by her arousal. He pulled it down to her knees and then off her feet, leaving both of them, at last, naked. As she gently suckled the tip of his dick, he maneuvered her hips closer to his chest. He guided her, lifting one knee over his head and planting it alongside his chest until her womanhood with its glistening inner lips hovered over his chest and neck.

She stopped what she was doing for a moment and looked backward at him.

"What are you doing," she asked.

"Trust me, sweet cheeks," he said. With that, he widened her knees and then rocked her hips backward and down until her slit settled perfectly onto his mouth and his eager tongue.

Sari gasped. No one had ever kissed Miss Kitty. She had read about cunnilingus, had seen it in porno video clips and even heard women friends describe it. Some raved, others said it didn't live up to its billing. Now she was experiencing having her pussy kissed, tongued and sucked firsthand, and it sent what felt like an electrical jolt directly from her clit to the pleasure centers of her brain.

She tried to keep pace with Carnell's oral ministrations, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth, but found herself unable to breathe properly and fearful that she might accidentally bite him if she suddenly came, which seemed imminent.

If this was Carnell's first time to make love orally to a woman, he was incredibly intuitive, Sari thought. He went from teasing her clit by thrusting is tongue against its underside to burying his tongue as far as he could into her opening and pressing it against its sensitive anterior wall. Miss Kitty smashed into his nose, mouth and chin, coating his face with her slish. And just as he sensed she was about to crest into her climax, he inserted his little finger into the puckered starfish of her anus, causing her to howl as her orgasm consumed her.

Her wet twat assaulted Carnell's face so fully that he was unable to breathe either through his nose or mouth for several seconds. She wailed in lustful release, then pulled her pussy quickly off Carnell's probing tongue, her love button far too sensitive for further stimulation. Her legs and hips continued to tremble as her orgasm ricocheted through her, evoking occasional muffled cries.

Spent at last, she rolled off Carnell and onto her side. He inverted his orientation and crawled behind Sari, spooning against her back, both of their heads toward the foot of the bed. For long minutes, they just lay there, silent other than the sounds of gentle kisses, his arms enveloping her as Sari caught her breath and collected her wits.

"Oh Lord, baby. That was beautiful," she said, barely above a whisper. "No one has ever made love to me like that. Actually, until just now, I don't think anyone ever made love to me. It was just fucking."

Carnell responded by caressing the slope of her neck, down the slope of her firm breast, then to her fingers resting near her navel. He clasped her hand in his and planted gentle kisses on her earlobe, then followed her hairline down to her necklace.

"Mmmmm," she said dreamily. "That feels so nice. So sweet."

"You are all that is perfect in a woman, Sari. And I adore every inch of you, inside and out," he whispered into her ear.

"And you haven't even been inside yet," she said, glancing impishly over her shoulder at him. She let go of his hand and reached behind her to where his stiff cock pressed against her upper thigh and the crease of her buttocks. She wrapped her hand around it. "You're still hard as Japanese calculus. We can't have that."

"You've got to be exhausted, baby."

"It's been a long day, but this is a girl who hasn't had any action in more than two years and I've wanted this ...," she said, rubbing his dick against her backside before lifting her left leg, scooting her ass backward and positioning its tip against her wet opening from behind, "... for a long, long time."

"Sari, I have condoms in my bag, if ... " he said, realizing that they hadn't even gotten their bags out of their vehicles yet.

"It's OK. I am on the pill and I have an IUD in case I forget," she said.

He gently thrust his hips forward and felt the fat head of his cock push into her tight wetness. She gasped at the sensation knowing that there was more dick still to fill her. She pushed her ass backward to bury more of him inside her, pushing the head of Carnell's cock against the G-spot on the front wall of her vagina.

Three more thrusts and finally Carnell was fully seated inside her, the tip of his dick almost kissing her cervix. Carnell just held himself in place for a long moment, relishing the sublime tight, wet warmth and the sense of completeness that overtook both of them.

"Yes ...," she sighed. "Perfection."

He kissed her neck and used his free hand to caress her breasts and torment her nipples. Her left hand wet itself in her juices and began massaging her clitoral hood between her middle and ring finger. As her hips began their rhythm, pressing backward into Carnell, his hips began thrusting forward in time with her, feeding his cock well into Sari's womanly core.

As long as Carnell had been aroused and edging, this wouldn't take long. He could feel his load building behind his balls and the base of his cock as it slid deep into Sari's vagina, producing a smacking sound with each thrust. Nor would it take long for Sari to peak for a third time with her cunt so well-filled.

"On my tummy, Carnell," she said in a ragged, lustful voice. "Roll me onto my tummy and take me from behind. I cum stronger that way."

So he did. He rolled counterclockwise with her, his dick never slipping out of her. She thrust her ass upward toward him to allow maximum penetration and clamped her thighs tightly together, increasing the already intense pressure inside her. As Carnell's pace quickened of its own accord, he could feel Sari racing toward orgasm, too, her fingers beneath her belly still thrumming her pearl.

Carnell felt as though his cock was twice its actual length as he pushed it into Sari with animal abandon. He could feel the muscles of her pelvic walls begin to twitch, then clamp around his dick as her hips began quaking and she stifled a scream into the bedsheets. He felt a rush of wetness against his balls. As she went rigid in the tremors of her orgasm, he lost control, thrust deeply into her and loosed the first rope of his semen into Sari with a low growl.

Depleted for the moment, they faced each other and kissed, gently and sweetly. They drifted off in each other's arms until they were alerted by a text on Sari's phone. It was from an unknown number with a 662 area code and said simply, "This is Rhetta at Ole Miss. Check your email."

A cold chill ran down her naked spine. Her hands shook.

She opened her gmail app and at the top of the queue was an email from Pearlman.r@UMiss.edu.

"Oh shit," she said, sitting upright and opening the email. She read the opening sentence and her heart sank.

Dear Ms. Fogarty,

As you know, there were many applicants for the remaining Teach Mississippi scholarships offered in the University of Mississippi spring semester ...

She put one hand over her eyes, unwilling to scroll up.

"What is it, Sari," Carnell asked.

"Here, you read this and then tell me what it says. I don't think it's good," she said, handing the phone to Carnell. He looked at it and scrolled up a couple of times as he read from the tiny screen.

"Baby, you want me to read it to you?" he said expressionlessly.

"Can't you just tell me?"

"Nah, I think I better read it as it's written."

"OK ... sure ... whatever ..."

"Dear Ms. Fogarty," he started.

"Yeah, I got past that and the first paragraph. Tell me what comes after."

He scrolled a little.

"It says, 'Thank you for taking your time this morning to meet with our panel. We found your academic record, your qualifications and your life story exemplary and very compelling.'"

"Go on ..."

"We voted late this afternoon after all the interviews were completed. You were the only unanimous choice. Allow me to be the first to congratulate you as the recipient of a Teach Mississippi scholarship beginning with the coming semester."

Sari squealed and bounced on the bed. She hugged and kissed Carnell and then did a naked celebratory strut around the room.

"I'm sorry there was any doubt in your mind, Sari. I knew you had this. Never a question in my mind," Carnell said.

"What's the rest of the email say," she asked.

"Just some stuff about next steps you should take by the end of November, a bunch of paperwork, yada yada yada ...," he said, handing her the phone.

Tears gathered in Sari's eyes as she stood beside the bed, giggling and crying at the same time, her nipples jiggling with her every move. A woman fully happy.

"I did it, Carnell," she said. "I can't believe it. They liked me ..." she said.

"I can. I like you, too. A lot. A whole lot," he said.

"I am going to be a teacher. It's going to happen. I get to do what my mama has done," she said. "I feel like partying!"

"Me too, baby. Let's wash each other up and use these tickets to that club uptown in Clarksdale and listen to some good music," he said.

She grabbed him by the hand and led him to the shower. They would emerge an hour and another orgasm apiece later, freshly scrubbed and beaming.

●●●

"Cat! What's up?" Dolores Fogarty said, answering the call from her daughter on the first ring. Cat was her nickname for her firstborn, a reference to her middle name. She was Christened Sari Cathryn Fogarty.

"Hey Mama. Well, I met with the Ole Miss folks this morning. I thought it went OK, and I guess it did. They emailed me already - I got the scholarship! I can finish college on what we've saved and be a teacher, like you, Mama," Sari said, her voice catching with emotion.

Carnell could hear the tinny squeal Dolores Fogarty emitted through the earpiece over the hum of his truck's eight-cylinder engine, even though Sari wasn't using the speakerphone.

They were driving north up U.S. 49 a few miles to Ground Zero for some catfish, cocktails and genuine Delta blues. Carnell heard snippets of the conversation, rich with emotion.

"Right now, I'm in Clarksdale with a friend. We're going to a blues club that famous actor owns ..." she said, then paused. "Yes, the actor that was in 'Driving Miss Daisy.' ... Yes, Mama, if I see him, I'll ask him for an autograph for you ... We're just going to hang out and relax a little and celebrate ..."

"Love you, too, Mama. Bye."

She hung up, turned in her seat and grinned at Carnell. "That was my mama."

"I guessed it might be." He reached his right hand across the well-worn center console of his pickup truck and she took his hand in hers.

"She got any idea we're being a little naughty this evening?" he said.

"I suspect she knows I'm not on a Girl Scout trip, but I didn't tell her exactly what I was doing or who I was doing it with," Sari said. "If I told her what we just did, she'd have a heart attack. Either that or she'd go rape daddy."

When she giggled, as she did at the thought of her mom riding her dad like a Churchill Downs thoroughbred on the first Saturday in May, Sari had a habit of catching her breath with something of a snort. Carnell found it endearing. But the idea of her mom and dad getting it on wasn't foreign to Sari. Dolores Fogarty had always been truthful with Sari about her body, about sex and love. She had taught her never to enter their bedroom without knocking and asking permission, and that if she heard them making strange sounds from behind that door, it was just the two of them sharing love for each other.

The same way she was taught not to regard her private region with the vulgar terminology common to trailer park girls who lived hard, put out early and were mothers before age 16, she also taught her about keeping herself clean and the urges she would feel. It was OK to scratch the itch alone and in private, she told her daughter as she entered puberty, but make sure it's someone you care deeply about as a person before you share yourself with him.

Ground Zero hadn't quite filled up when they got there just before 7:30. This was a club that played for a crowd accustomed to staying up late - in Clarksdale, that was 1 a.m. when a city ordinance required all alcohol be off the tables.

Set up in an old cottonseed business hard against the railroad tracks within sight of what was once an Illinois Central train depot where the storied City of New Orleans and Panama Limited had stopped, Ground Zero was authentic Old South, culturally and musically, and people from all over the world were drawn to it. On any given night, more people at Ground Zero might speak German or Italian than English.

Sari tore into her plate of catfish, cole slaw, a twice-baked potato and a cold Corona long-neck Cerveza while Carnell, never big on alcohol, wolfed down his plate of barbecued pork ribs and washed it down with a Diet Coke. It turned out that the proprietor, Mr. Freeman, had gone to Oxford, the city they left, where he would be take a microphone, stand on the 50-yard line in Ole Miss's stadium just before kickoff and, in his renowned voice-of-God, lead Rebel fans in their anachronistic, nonsensical spirit cheer called the "Hotty Toddy."

But Sari and Carnell were in for a treat nonetheless: the unannounced act for the evening was Buddy Guy, an eight-time Grammy-winning blues guitarist and a friend of Freeman's. That's the thing about Ground Zero: you never knew when famous artists would drop in unscheduled, jam with local musicians and test out new material on a genuine blues-loving crowd. If they announced those impromptu gigs in advance, fans by the thousands would try to swamp a club the fire marshal rated to hold a maximum of 200 people.

They shared a table off to one side but near the stage. They were able to scoot their chairs back almost against the wall, side-by-side. There, they held each other as close as they could. Around 11:30, Carnell noticed that Sari's head was resting against his chest. Her long day and her three Coronas had caught up with her.

"What say let's call it a day, sweet cheeks," Carnell whispered to her as Buddy Guy took a short break. She nodded silently to him. He settled the check and by 11:45, they were cruising down the highway into the Delta night with the Milky Way forming a breathtaking canopy against the clear, indigo sky on this cold, moonless Mississippi Friday night.