Maggie

"Go shower." She told him. "There are towels in the master." She pushed him towards her bedroom. He took a single step backwards and she took the opportunity to take him in from head to toe. As he turned to slip into her room she leaned back, this time thankful for the wall behind her to catch her before she fell.

Food. She needed to make food. A long time ago her mother had sat her down for the talk. It was the early hours of the morning when she had discovered the blood and gone crying to her parent's room. Her mother had taken her and shown her what she needed to know and then brought her to the kitchen where she had her first cup of coffee and they ate store-bought cookies as her mother explained life the way she saw it.

Men need food and they need sex. If you give it to them they will do whatever you want but if you spoil them with it they wont appreciate you and it wont work. As old-fashioned as she had felt her parents were, it was true. Her mother was not the type to put on a hot meal every night. Some nights her father would come home and take them out. Others she would find him puttering around the kitchen. His specialty was pan-fried chicken. She remembered how shocked she was when she learned that all dads didn't cook half the time. She needed to make food. She thought of the blonde and figured he probably wasn't used to it. She scurried downstairs. She listened to the water in the pipes. There was something wrong in the house and the pipes made a dull thumping sound in the kitchen when someone showered upstairs. She hadn't heard it in years. She waited to start his laundry.

Canned soup and cheese sandwiches would have to do. She had the soup in a pan simmering and the bread buttered on the counter when she heard the thumping stop.

Feed them after. It was a small revision she had made on her own. Feed them too much before and they are lethargic. Besides, with Ben she had found he usually recovered his energy while eating and would be good for another go if she fed him after.

She reached the bedroom door just as he was emerging from the bathroom. They stood at opposite sides of her room. He had wrapped a towel around his waist. He had tan arms and a red neck but a pale chest and legs. He was a working man. She liked that. He would be strong. He didn't say anything and she liked that too. She took her sweater in two hands and pulled it up over her head. She had never been a fan of bras. In only her tight black pants she stood looking at him. He stared back. He looked at her chestbriefly to be sure, but now his eyes were fixed on hers.

"Maggie..."

"Trey, whatever you say, please don't say we can't or we shouldn't." The crazy redhead wasn't just back, she was in charge. "You can say you don't want to. I know I'm just a crazy old woman." She moved towards him until she was hallway across the room then paused and surprised herself by smoothly tugging the tight pants off her hips and down her legs. She closed the last few steps to him. She reached out and took his hand. Thankfully he still hadn't managed to finish his thought.

"Maggie..." he said. She placed his hand on her breast. He was warm now and she was the one that felt chilled. She felt his grip tighten on her and she sighed at the strength of him. "You are spectacular." He finished, and as if she needed to silence the silly boy, she pulled his mouth to hers again before melting into his arms.

She pulled him into her bed with a sense of urgency. It had been so long and she had allowed herself to fantasize about the moment so thoroughly over the last few hours that now, she simply wanted him on top of her. She wanted to feel him inside of her. As he kissed her she pulled at his hips, a not so subtle invitation to take her. Stubbornly he resisted. As she pulled at his ass he simply moved down her body pressing his mouth first to her neck and then to her breasts. His strength was insurmountable and his touch so delicate that he distracted her. As his mouth, and eventually his teeth, teased at her breasts and nipples she gasped and writhed under him. When his mouth moved lower, his chin scratchy against her belly she finally began to anticipate what came next.

Ben had been a perfect man in nearly every way and through their first years together she had come to believe that she just couldn't be pleasured the way. Trey now began to tease her with his tongue and lips. Had it not been for a couple of wild weekends in the city and the debauchery that was their trip to Jamaica she probably never would have learned to appreciate the proper use of a tongue on her. He tormented her, bringing her close repeatedly only to back away at the last second. When finally she couldn't take it anymore she gripped his head firmly in her hands wrapping her thighs, strengthened by years on horseback, until he couldn't pull away. When it hit her, it was as if she had been struck by lightning, the orgasm wrenching her spine, her body tightening around him.

After a long moment she could finally breathe and her muscles loosened enough that she could release his head. He gave her no time to recover moving the full length of his body on top of her. He entered her like a stake being driven through pine and she gasped at the size of him. With each thrust she squealed out thankful for the cover the storm provided. The nearest neighbor was half a mile away but she knew on a clear night her cries would have carried. Old Man Woods would have called the sheriff concerned she was being bloodily murdered.

The feel of him finishing inside of her was a long forgotten sensation and she gripped at him with the full force of her arms and legs as he filled her. Her gasping changed as a long forgotten joy caused her to giggle at him. She lost control and was soon laughing and crying all at once and gasping to catch her breath. When she saw the look of confusion on his face it caused another round of giggles. She pulled him to her kissing him and laughing and delighting in him. She was a crazy old woman and she was okay with that. She wondered briefly if the soup had burned on the stove.