Oil of Roses Ch. 03

Many thanks to Literotica author 'englander1961' for her help, editorial services, encouragement and a title much better than my original, which has elevated her to the status of House Goddess of Sexy Story Titles. Effusive thanks to Holly, the beloved and erotic Sister Decadence for her encouragement, editorial review and kind words. Thanks to Literotica author 'KY ridgerunner' for the stories that planted the idea in my head months ago.

After you've read this, if you have any inclination at all to comment, please do so, either by email or on the comment board... The best way for me to grow and improve as an author is to hear from the people who read my work.

I welcome constructive critiques and non-abusive comments. I will answer, in at least a semi-prompt manner, any email that comes with an email address.

If you feel you must respond in a hateful or angry fashion, you may put your head down upon your desk and do so, quietly to yourself, for as long as you feel it necessary. This story may not be copied to other sites without my permission.

If you have not read the earlier installment(s) of this tale, it would probably help you to make sense of this one if you did so.

* * * * *

His S-80 was careening down the wet road on the edge of 'out-of-control'. In the darkness outside the windows trees and boulders and bridge supports and buildings nestled themselves up snugly to the very side of the highway, flashing past almost too fast for recognition.

His eyes went to the speedometer and he watched the needle climb past '120'. He'd been here before, many times over the past months and when it had begun the terror had overwhelmed him. But as time had gone by and the emptiness inside had grown more pronounced, had grown more inescapable, there'd been nothing left there to birth any terror.

He'd grown very comfortable with the speed and the slick road, the sudden death so close to him. Comfortable enough to enjoy slaloming the car back and forth, testing his luck, seeing just how close he could come.

After all, what was the worst that could happen? What more did he have to lose?

But now, now something had changed and the terror was back. It roared up out of his depths and washed over him like a great wave, choking him, blinding him. He felt the car veering to the right and he knew he had seconds to correct his course or he'd never see her again and the emptiness would return and his love would be ashes in his mouth and where the light from her eyes used to warm him there'd be nothing but cold desolation and the pain and fear within him found a voice and that voice clawed its way up his throat, raping his vocal cords as it tore through and it was the sound a soul made when banished from the sight of God and his hands grabbed the wheel and tried to turn the car away from the danger but the wheel wouldn't turn as he felt his nails shatter and the tips of his fingers shred as the bone underneath pushed through from the force of his grip and there was nothing he could do and he'd never even be able to tell her 'goodbye' or how much he loved her-

"HARRY!"

-and she'd think he'd left because he didn't love her, she'd think he'd left because he never loved her and the front corner of the car hit something and time slowed so every second of his damnation could be enjoyed and the police report would say he'd run his car into 'whatever' and they'd all 'know' it was suicide and he could only cringe away from the thought of what that would do to her and now the passenger-side dash arrived like a herald announcing the nearness of the engine to come and-

"HARRY GODDAMNIT!"

-he felt his shoulders dislocate as he used all he was to turn the fucking wheel and the car was shaking back and forth in a rhythm new to the cataclysm and he wasn't going to fucking die here but he knew that was bullshit because he really was and there was nothing he could do to stop it as the dash continued its inexorable drive towards him, pinning his right hand to the wheel as it bent and began its voyage to mate with his chest and the measured shaking continued, back and forth and he'd never see her beautiful smile again and that was Hell, no matter what you'd been taught in any fucking Sunday School, that was Hell and he was going there-

As a sharp stinging pain inflamed the side of his face and his eyes shot open. Her face, as beautiful as the dawn and full of concern, floated before him.

His terror propelled his mouth into overdrive.

"Baby Girl it wasn't suicide and don't you ever think I don't love you because I do and I didn't mean to leave you I tried so hard so goddamn hard but there was nothing I could do and when they tell you it was suicide it wasn't because there's no reason for me to want to leave you ever and if I never saw your smile again I'd be in Hell and I'm so sorry I won't be here to take care of you-"

"HARRY," she shouted, "you were having a dream baby, you were having a nightmare, its ok, you're not going anywhere, you're safe, you're right here and I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

His chest gave birth to deep wracking sobs as he continued to mouth his dream's overflow. Carol drew him to her, placed his head between her breasts and stroked his hair, rocking him gently.

"Harry, baby, you're fine, it's ok, you're not leaving me. You're not going anywhere, baby, you're staying right here."

As he slowly calmed, she reached to the bedside table and retrieved great wads of tissue, helped him to wipe his face and blow his nose.

There, safe in the arms of his girl, he told her of the dream, and the history of the dream, and how tonight had been different.

When he was through, when he had wound down, she gently led his mouth to her breast.

"Harry, baby, there you go, there sweetie, that's good, yes, I like that... that's good, suck your Baby Girl's tit."

"Now Harry, you just keep sucking and let me talk for a bit." Her voice was soft and calm, implacable. "If I ever meet Angie, I'm going to put her in the hospital. If you don't want me to, you're going to have to give me express and clear orders to the contrary because otherwise, I'm gonna kick that cunt to the curb and curb stomp her till it stops feeling good to me. And that, my dear sweet Harry, could take a long time."

"Now, roll over on your back and let me please you, help to wash that horrible dream out of your mind and fill it with happier thoughts, ok?"

Continuing to nurse at her breast like a man possessed, Harry slowly and carefully rolled over, scooting backwards on the bed into a sitting position.

She reached down and behind her to find his cock, fully erect, straining to meet her hand. Throwing a leg over him, she guided him in.

His dick penetrated her wet heat effortlessly as she lowered herself onto him, her eyes locked on his face. As her hips began their dance, tears flowed down her cheeks as she reflected that if every bad experience of her life had been necessary to bring her to this room, this time, this man, then they were worth it. They were all worth it. She'd found her place in the world.

It would be wise for those who might hurt Harry to reflect that pets will fiercely defend their Masters.

Harry's mind, still unsettled from the nightmare, found solace in the act of sucking his Baby Girl's tit. It was if he was nursing at the breast of tranquility, calm running down his throat in a never-ending stream. Oh, his dick might be anything but at peace at the moment, and his body might be yearning to join it in its rigor, in its vigor, but his mind and his soul, those were finding that quiet center of nirvana. He knew without thinking that Carol was meant to be a part of his life. It was not a rational thought, it was an acknowledgement of what was; true, irrefutable and carved into the granite of his being.

Together they found their pace and moved as one, gently surging in unison, an act of love that was not a race to an orgasmic finish line, but rather a laying-on-of-hands, a holy healing of two people that life had had its rough way with.

"Harry," she gasped, "I want you not to think, don't think of anything at all. Don't even think about what I'm saying, just let it flow into you and then flow out of you. Everything you sense, however you sense it, is not to be thought about, it's to be felt. I'm not speaking words, I'm making pretty sounds. What you see with your eyes is not a woman riding her love, it is shapes and colors and pretty designs, floating before you solely to delight your senses. All your nerves, all your senses tie into your cock, Harry. They all feed into your beautiful cock. They don't feed information to the brain; they feed sensation to your dick."

Harry's mind, relaxed, tranquil and safe, found it easy to follow her instructions. He identified, quantified, qualified nothing; he merely experienced it and all the experienced sensations were good and they all began to trickle through his body like the beginnings of mountain streams and the streams grew and all the streams led to his cock, buried deep within the source of his peace and as he let go of the rational, she left words behind and began to sing to him, pleasant notes without meaning, it was as if a circuit was completed and it ran from his extremities to his cock and from there to her cunt and then out to her extremities and back across to his. Their bodies were fused and jolted as if from a great surge of electricity and they sang together as the seconds stretched to infinity.

* * * * *

As Anna Pessino approached Harry Grimes' house, she reflected again on the will of God and how it somehow seemed to demand that bad things happen to good people.

She had kept house for Mr. Harry's parents and for Mr. Harry and his wife Ms. Angie when they were together, and she had never liked that Ms. Angie, or trusted her, but now she was working for Ms. Angie five days a week, and was sneaking over to clean house for Mr. Harry on one of her two days off and praying Ms. Angie never found out or she'd lose her position with her.

Bad things happening to good people. Ms. Angie happening to Mr. Harry. Ms. Angie happening to Anna. Maybe it wasn't so much that God had bad things happening to good people, maybe it was that God had Ms. Angie happening to good people.

She had spent the months following Mr. Harry and Ms. Angie's separation watching Mr. Harry's house reflect his slow sinking into a pit she was afraid he'd never be lifted out of. She had hurt him bad, that Ms. Angie, and it seemed that the living breathing man was dying, being replaced by a ghost that could live in the house from week to week and scarcely leave a trace. She never saw him, just a check on the table every week and a note that always said the same thing, 'thank you Anna'. She never stayed late enough to see him, as she had her own family to tend to, but she thought that perhaps tonight, she would stay late, talk to him, try to talk some sense into him, try to talk some life into him, tell him what that Ms. Angie was doing in that house they used to share in Crockett Heights. Maybe if he got angry, he'd come alive again.

* * * * *

Harry had released Carol's breast from his mouth and she had collapsed onto him. He held her head to his chest and she nibbled and bit her way back and forth across him, lost in the taste of him. Harry's head was thrown back, his mouth wide open as he lost himself in the perfumes that wafted about the room, most strongly the smell of her and her desire.

They throbbed together as one, their incoherent moans filling the room and blending into a song of desire and longing and satisfaction and completion. They danced at the edge of their climaxes as if, in their mindlessness, they somehow knew that past that point they would become two again.

* * * * *

As Anna's car rounded the corner, she saw that Mr. Harry's car was in the driveway.

Perhaps he was sick, or was finally taking some time off to deal with what Ms. Angie had done to him. Whatever the reason, it would give her a chance to talk to him. She could run to the grocery for him if he needed anything.

She pulled into the drive and parked, got out and went to the front door, letting herself in. Her mouth opened, about to announce her presence, when she heard sounds she knew well.

She looked around the living room as she quietly crept through.

It was a disaster area. Boxes and bags and clothes were everywhere, chains and leather straps and metal things she couldn't identify.

Her heart sang. These were the signs of life! Life was messy and no ghost moved through this house now. This, with the sounds she was hearing? There was life in this house! Mr. Harry was back from the dead!

* * * * *

The two lovers felt the strain building in each of them. The inevitable could only be delayed so long before it would no longer be denied.

The avalanche began deep inside Carol and as it slowly cascaded down, its joyous answering echoes were heard inside of Harry.

* * * * *

Anna eased to the edge of the bedroom door and slowly moved her head around the door frame.

The young woman on top of Mr. Harry was beautiful, a full-bodied, wide-hipped girl who looked like she might well have come from the same village as Anna. She heard the song of their moans and their cries and heard the love that echoed throughout it.

The dimness of the room gave a cast to Harry's complexion and looking at the two of them, Anna was reminded of herself when she was younger riding her husband, Emiliano. Oh, the love they had made! She had been surprised the walls had not crumbled around them sometimes.

The young girl rose up on her arms and gently eased her body upright. She arched her back and continued backwards, catching herself on her arms yet again, her head hanging down above Mr. Harry's knees.

Anna watched, a smile on her face as this young girl brought life back to Mr. Harry in a way Anna had not considered.

Well, perhaps if she was 30 years younger... and not married to Emiliano... or maybe even if she was.

But she wasn't 30 years younger and she thanked God and the Virgin Mary and all the saints that this girl had come into his life.

Then she noticed the girl's face, upside down, eyes open, staring at Anna and smiling. The girl winked at her.

Anna jerked her head back and began to ease back towards the door.

* * * * *

As Carol leaned back, Harry could stand it no longer. He erupted inside her and it felt for all the world as if the brain he had turned off was flowing out of him with his orgasm. The inside of his skull was a great mass of wires, all short-circuiting at once.

Carol rode out his orgasm, her arched position keeping her clitoris away from contact as he bucked and started like a man possessed. She ached to come herself, had had to force herself to back away from coming and was still so close that she could taste it but felt something holding her, restraining her, as if she was awaiting some signal.

A part of her mind thought with pleasure on the look of approval she had seen on the face of the woman she assumed was Harry's housekeeper. She hoped her arrival did not prompt Harry to fire the woman. She never meant to be the cause of anyone losing their job, but if Harry wanted her to keep house for him she would. She would do anything for him.

Harry's convulsions calmed to twitches and his eyes opened to see his love stretched out in front of him, her breasts riding high in the air, her generously fleshy hips snugly sealed to his. As his mind slowly began to come back online, he ran his hands up those thighs, then up to her waist, pulling her back over and down to him.

"Baby Girl, why haven't you come yet?"

And with his question came her answer.

"Because sir, I feel that I have abused you and your privileges. Many owners consider it their prerogative to give and withhold permission to orgasm from their property. I do not wish to abuse you."

"Fair enough. Then listen; unless I explicitly state differently, you are to orgasm whenever and however while we are making love. I will not withhold that from my Baby Girl without a reason."

Carol brought herself forward, grasping him with both hands by the sides of his head and pulling him up to kiss her as she ground her crotch into his, her clitoris caressed by his pubic hair. Their lips locked and even with the post-orgasmic tenderness of his prick, he began to move under her once again as she fiercely pounded herself onto him.

Harry broke from the kiss and whispered "Come for me" into her ear.

Carol's body seemed to contract, as if she was shrinking away from everything and then she began to shake violently, a high-pitched moan voiced with every breath.

Harry held her as her orgasms rolled on and on, kissing her face and neck, and bathing in her glow. Just when he would think she was done, she would arch herself down on him again and her orgasms would thunder on.

Harry could think of no place in the world he'd rather be.

As she finally began to tremble down to a stop, she crawled up his body to place her head near his ear.

He listened, smiling, expecting a lover's endearments.

"Harry, what's your housekeeper's name?"

Harry's face had the look of a bull hit between the eyes with a two-by-four.

"Anna. Anna Pessino, why?"

"She come to clean on Thursdays?"

"Yes."

"What day is it?"

"Holy shit, it's Thursday!"

"Yeah, you'd better get ready to formally introduce us. We've already met somewhat more informally."

* * * * *

Anna let herself back out, praying that the girl didn't tell Mr. Harry that Anna had been spying on them.

She paced outside for a time, worrying if she was giving them enough time to finish. Finally the Texas heat drove her back to the door.

As she opened it, she yelled into the house. "Hello, Mr. Harry! It's Anna Pessino!"

From the bedroom she heard "Be with you in a minute Anna" and then, well, it sounded like someone was getting a spanking. She thought she heard Mr. Harry say "I told you this was coming".

A few moments later, out of the short hallway that led to the master bedroom came Mr. Harry in a bathrobe, hand-in-hand with the young girl she'd seen earlier, wearing a large t-shirt. She was rubbing her bottom.

"Hello Anna, it's been so long since I've seen you. How are you? How's Emiliano? How're the kids?"

He hugged her and her heart sang as she felt the life coursing through him and knew this was one that Ms. Angie had not destroyed.

"I am good and they are all fine, Mr. Harry, although Emiliano, he doesn't get around too well anymore. And who is this lovely young lady?"

"Ah, Anna Pessino meet Carol Riley. I believe the two of you met more casually just a bit ago, and you do need to get to know each other. Anna, Carol is now the lady of the house-"

Carol leapt up, throwing her arms around his neck. Her t-shirt caught on the belt of his robe so she hung there, her bare ass covered in reddened handprints before Anna, as she whispered in Harry's ear.

"Oh God sir, I love you so much."

Harry gently disentangled her and lowered her to the floor.

"As I was saying, Carol is now the lady of the house and therefore I want the two of you to get to know each other. Carol, Anna has kept house for my family for the last, let's see, eighteen years I think."

Carol took Anna's hand in both of hers.

"Anna, from what I've seen, you do a superb job and I think that the best thing for me to do will be to stay out of your way, unless you want my help."

"Ms. Carol, help I don't need, this house is no trouble at all. But company, company would be nice sometimes."

Carol's face lit up. "Harry, don't you worry, Anna and I will get along just fine."

Harry took Anna's other hand in both of his.