The Two-Step Symphony

Brick kissed down between her tits, sucked each nipple, and then continued down to her panties, which he promptly removed. It thrilled him to see the big smile on her face.

"Treat me like one of your groupies," she urged.

It occurred to Brick that his appeal to her might be because she could be wild with him in a way that she couldn't with the upper crust men she knew. So, he gave her what she wanted by rolling her over onto her side. He pushed her upper leg up to expose her genitalia, then licked her pussy and ass.

Chris let out a loud yelp. "Oops, sorry."

"Darling, we're a ways away from anything or anybody. Make all the noise you want." He kissed a trail up to her neck, and with her still on her side, he entered her from behind.

"Oh, yes!" she cried.

Pulling his cock out again, he held it at the base and slapped her pussy with it. She whooped, and he shoved it back in and fucked her hard. Leaning his head in the crook of her neck, he held onto her lower tit. She lifted her leg and rested it on his hip. Within seconds, she was coming and coming hard, shivering and shaking in delight.

As she was recovering, she said, "I have a confession to make."

"Oh, what is that?"

"Like I said, I'm just using you for your body," she said giggling. "But really—" here she became serious "—I can be free with you in a way that I can't be with the men I know."

"Yeah, I figured that."

"And I'm happy to give it to you any way you want it, but I have a confession also."

"And what's yours?"

"After years of crazy sex with a lot of crazy women where nobody cared—girls just wanted to brag that they screwed somebody in Bull Conroy's band and the guys in the band just wanted to get laid after a show—I want this to mean something."

"I was just kidding about using your body."

"Oh, I know. What I mean is, I don't really remember a single one of those girls. But I don't want to forget you."

"Aw, that's sweet, Brick. I won't forget this either. Will you make love to me again?"

Brick turned her onto her stomach and straddled her legs just below her buttocks. He rubbed the length of his cock between her cheeks.

Chris purred, and reached behind her to spread her cheeks. After several slides, he eased his dick back inside of her and she moaned. He pumped her slowly pulling back all the way so that only the tip of his penis was still inside of her, and then driving deep all the way to the hilt.

"Oh, I love this position."

"One of my favorites, too."

Turning her head to the side, he was able to kiss the side of her face, not quite able to reach her lips. Chris giggled.

"I like this position slow, also."

Leaning as far forward as he could to avoid slipping out, he was able to tilt her head back enough to kiss her upside down.

Again, she giggled, then said, "But now I want it hard."

So, he started pile-driving.

She laid her head flat and spread out her arms. "Oh, yes, yes, yes! I'm coming!" She clenched her fists and tilted her head as far forward as she could. "Ungh, ungh, ungh . . . ahhhhh!" She shivered and then was still.

Brick pulled out, leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck. He kissed his way down to her ass, and then turned her over to do her missionary style. He gazed into her eyes as he pumped at a moderate pace. Chris stared back with a dreamy look in her eyes. This lasted for a couple of minutes when she seemed to be rejuvenated. Taking control, she rolled him onto his back and quickly mounted him. With her legs bent like a jockey on a thoroughbred, she began her ride with quick back and forth pivots.

Leaning over, Chris kissed Brick and then rested her face on his. In this position, she had to bounce, and he met her with his own thrusts. Straightening back up, the pace she set was furious. Other than her continuous vocal sounds, which ran a wide gamut, only the sound of their slapping skin could be heard.

Finally, Chris slowed again to accommodate her second climax. Brick tried to hold out as long as could until she finished, and then he pulled out and sprayed her back with cum.

"Mmmm," she moaned, feeling the warm liquid splash against her back.

Afterward, the two comfortably wrapped themselves in a blanket, and with the fire crackling, Chris, with a look of concern, confided, "Brick, I'm getting worried."

"There's no need to. We're okay here until the rain stops. Tex keeps this place up because he hides here when Bev gets mad—"

"No, that's not what I mean. I'm worried about myself. I don't do this with the men I usually see."

Brick took a moment to consider her confession, then said, "Well, you're giving into yourself."

"Is that bad?"

"You like doing it with me because you can skip all the formalities that your high society boyfriends wouldn't accept in a woman like you."

"You assume a great deal about yourself." She was not being argumentative.

"You're the one that said you wanted to use my body."

"Yes. It'll be hard to go back."

"Then, don't."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, seeing as how I got a ranch house made for a family of six and only one is living in it, I guess I could squeeze you in."

"You're suggesting that I merely drop everything, leave New York and move to Colorado with you?"

"Well, you don't seem to be having much luck where you are. And I don't want you because you got money or because of your family name."

"And what of the fact that we have nothing in common? We've discussed that already and decided it wouldn't work."

"A casual conversation after we'd only known each other a few hours; two weeks have passed since then."

"But we still don't know each other any better."

"This is the second time our paths have crossed—by chance. That means something to me."

"What?"

"It means I'd better take advantage of this second opportunity." Realizing the only way to get his point across was to be truthful, Brick decided to do just that. "You know why I took it easy the last two weeks? Because I was so mad that something as ridiculous as society kept us apart, I just didn't feel like doing a damned thing. I almost didn't come today because I was feeling so miserable."

"I had no idea you felt so strongly," Chris said slowly, looking deep into his eyes.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know. I . . . I care for you, but . . . we . . . how do we know we're not just infatuated with . . . the situation?"

"Maybe we just need to take the gamble, beat the odds, buck the system. What do you say?"

"I must think about it," she answered, shaking her head. "I can't make such a drastic change on an impulse. But I will think about it. I promise. Now," she said with her alluring smile, "you did say that where you come from you don't psychoanalyze these things, did you not?"

"Yes."

"We're in Texas, and Texas is where you come from, is it not?"

"Yes."

"You've heard the expression 'When in Rome, do like the Romans?'"

"Yes."

"So, we're in Texas; let's do like the Texans." Chris made an exaggerated show of glancing out a window at the still falling rain. "What do Texans do who are stranded in a tiny cabin in the woods during a downpour?"

Brick grinned. "We've already done it."

"Well then, what do Texans do who are stuck in a cabin in the woods for the night?" the ever-inquisitive Chris wanted to know.

"If it's late, they go to bed and go to sleep," Brick explained.

"And if it's early?"

"They still go to bed."

"I don't know what time it is, but it certainly isn't late."

And so, they did it again.

The precipitation did finally cease sometime well after dark, though neither had a watch to be precise about the exact hour. What they did have was a long list of excuses why they could not return to the ranch house. Neither dared question the validity of the other's dubious if not contrived reasoning: he wasn't sure either he or the horses could find their way back at night, particularly as it was still overcast and there were no stars to guide them, and she didn't want to rely on their uncertain sense of direction; what they would return to would be a ranch house full of passed-out drunks (the non-drunks would already have departed) and not only were Brick and Chris not drunk, but the drunks would have taken all the good sleeping spots, whereas here they had their own bed, each other and privacy.

* * *

Chris Cannon was brought to the edge of consciousness by a burning sensation on her face. It was too persistent to ignore, so she opened her eyes a few seconds later. The shock of intense sunlight shining in her face caused her to quickly shut them again. Finally, she turned her head to one side and was able to see that the bed was beneath an uncovered window.

Rising and draping the blanket over her nude body, Chris was instantly aware that she was alone. Only her now dry clothes still remained on the fireplace hearth, which she hurriedly slipped into, then stepped outside. Her worst horror was realized upon sight of the one unsaddled horse.

Yes, Chris was hurt and frightened. But those emotions were borne out of the helplessness of her situation: she was stranded in a tiny cabin in the woods, her only way out an unsaddled horse which she had no idea how to saddle, and even if she did, she could ride the miserable beast for days and have no idea where she was going. Yet what prevented her from actually breaking down and crying was searing anger. Because Brick had said he wouldn't do this to her again, and he had lied.

But anger can only give a city girl stranded in the woods so much strength before fear of the unknown takes hold. The rustling in the bushes was just such an unknown. It was all Chris could do to get back inside the cabin quick enough. Her Ivy League knowledge did not include a catalog of which species of wild animals inhabited this area, nor how to deal with them.

So, it was with a mixture of relief and renewed anger that Chris reacted to the appearance of Brick Henry on horseback. She restrained herself from storming out, stepping onto the porch as though nothing was wrong. "Guilty conscience?" she asked calmly.

"What?" Brick responded, dismounting.

"Did you return because you had a guilty conscience about leaving me again?" Chris purposely phrased it as though she was speaking to a child.

"I didn't leave you. I just rode down to the creek to get you some water to rinse your face." As he answered, Brick removed two canteens which had been hanging from his saddle horn.

"You went to get water?" she repeated slowly and with decreasing volume. "For me?" Chris covered her face with her hand. "Oh . . . oh, my . . . oh, Brick, I'm sorry. I thought you'd left me again. I really feel like a fool."

"Well, it's not like I didn't give you cause."

When he reached her, she threw her arms around him, kissed him passionately, then apologized once more.

"We could go inside and discuss this further," Brick suggested.

"I'd love to, but I have to get back to New York."

Brick suddenly felt his good mood drop a few notches, but he tried not to let it show. He wanted desperately to ask her if she'd considered any further his suggestion that she come live with him in Colorado. However, he didn't want to press it. As it was, her need to return home was proof she had not come to a decision, if she had thought about it at all. He decided to mention it to her just before they parted.

Brick was strangely quiet during the tediously long, slow horseback ride back to the main house. Tex and Bev were having a late breakfast on the patio, and with sheepish grins, invited Brick and Chris to join them. It seemed that all of the guests had finally departed. Very politely, Chris turned down the offer and thanked the Tylers for allowing her to come.

Brick then drove her to her hotel in Austin in his rented car. During the trip, she rambled on about her business in Texas. He listened but didn't really hear what she was saying. He merely enjoyed the sound of her melodic voice.

At the hotel, Chris couldn't get into the shower quick enough to wash off the dirt and smell of the horses. She invited Brick to join her. Of course, he did. They toyed with each other, to be sure, but were careful not to let it progress into something Chris did not have time to finish.

Finally, Brick drove her to the airport.

"You've been quiet ever since we left the ranch," Chris noted. "Is it because we're close to saying good-bye?"

"This isn't good-bye," he said, attempting to sound cheerful. "Just see you later."

"You're that certain I'll decide to come live with you?"

"Not as certain as I'd like to feel."

"And what will you do if I stay in New York?"

Brick shrugged. "You know, if a year ago someone had told me I was going to fall head over heels for a high-class lady from New York, lose interest in ranching, partying and other women, I would've thought they'd been thrown on their head by a bucking bronco. The point is, people can change. I hope that when you get back to New York it won't seem the same, the operas and the symphonies won't seem as enjoyable, you won't be as content with your friends, particularly men, maybe the city will even seem more crowded; and when you stop to consider all these things, it'll dawn on you that they're all the same, it's you that's changed. And then you'll be ready for something different."

"I have to be honest with you, Brick. There wasn't too much I liked about the Tyler ranch. What makes you think I'd like yours any better?"

"Well, I'd be there, for one," he answered with a chuckle. "But seriously, as much as I liked playing music, the first time I stepped on stage I was so nervous I was ready to quit on the spot. But not only did I get used to it, I thrived on it. Yesterday was just your first day on a ranch."

"And what would we do to avoid getting bored with each other? We can only spend so much time in bed. Even that would get tiring after a while."

"Did you know that I have never sat down and listened to a Bee-toven symphony or a Moe-zart piano con-sert-o—"

"That's Mote-zart con-cher-to," she corrected.

"Well, it don't matter, I've still never heard one. But I'd sure be willing to sit and listen to one with you. Who knows, maybe I'd even learn to like it. And I bet I could play some songs for you you'd be surprised to learn was country."

It was at this point Brick pulled to a stop in front of the airport terminal building.

"You're an amazing man, Brick Henry."

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because you almost make me believe that what you say is possible."

"Well, then, I'm not amazing enough or you'd totally believe me."

Chris shook her head once. "No amount of talk could completely convince me. That's something I must do myself. And I'll have ample time to begin that on the plane."

"If you still need convincing when you get to New York, call me."

"Okay." Chris flashed her wonderful smile, then leaned over and kissed him passionately on the lips. "But, for now, I'm afraid it's good-bye."

"No, don't say that. Let's just leave it at 'see you later.'"

* * *

This second parting with Chris Cannon was not nearly as detrimental to Brick's mental well-being as the first had been because he knew he'd hear from her again. Now maybe after their third contact—if her decision was unfavorable—he'd have reason to be depressed. But for now, he'd just remain optimistic.

He returned home, wanting to be there in case Chris called. And back in Colorado, he did manage to get some ranching in.

A week after the barbecue, Brick was trying to convince himself that it was a good sign he hadn't heard from Chris yet, that a week or two meant she was seriously considering

his proposal. But when two weeks turned into three, he felt the first pangs of edginess.

It took every ounce of Brick's will power—and then some—to resist phoning Chris. He wanted an answer, but he didn't want it to seem as though he was pressuring her. She did finally call, however, midway into the fourth week.

A second after her greeting, Brick knew what her decision was. Her tone of congeniality did not sound genuine.

"I was beginning to think you forgot me," he responded, his own good humor suddenly forced.

"Of course, not. Never." A moment of pause. "So, how have you been?"

"Pretty good, and you?"

"Oh, okay. What have you been doing?"

"Waiting for you to call," he responded gently. Enough small talk, he decided. Down to business. "And it don't sound like the news is gonna be good."

"Oh, Brick. You were partially correct. I did find things somewhat different here, and I know it's because I've changed a little. But I don't think enough to leave New York."

"Well, that's all right. I really didn't expect you to," he lied, trying to conceal his disappointment.

"I want you to know that it isn't you Brick. I just can't get comfortable with the idea of living on a ranch miles from the nearest people. Can you understand that?" She seemed genuinely distressed.

"Yes, I do."

"Please don't hate me."

"I could never do that."

"I think were I to move to Colorado, or even you to New York, would be to take the best part of us away from each other. And that wouldn't be fair. In the long run, it wouldn't do anything other than drive us apart."

"Maybe you're right, I don't know." Did it really matter, Brick wondered? But she had to analyze everything.

"I hope we can still see each other. I travel as much out west as any place else. I could call you and we could meet and lock ourselves in a hotel room and screw our brains out for a couple of days." Chris phrased her last sentence whimsically.

"Well, that's better than nothing."

"You sound so disappointed. I wish there was something I could do."

"There is."

"Besides that."

"Don't worry. I'll get over it. At least you still wanna see me. There is one thing I wanna to tell you. I don't want you just so we can screw our brains out. I like being with you, I like talking with you and I like just looking at you."

Chris chuckled slightly. "Oh, I know, Brick. I just meant that that's what we do best together."

"Okay. Well, would you mind if I called you once in a while?"

"I'll look forward to it."

* * *

But Brick was not as comfortable with this new arrangement as he allowed Chris to believe. It was, as he had told her, better than nothing. However, it wasn't what he really wanted.

He wanted to wake up beside her every morning. He wanted her face to be the first thing his eyes saw every day, because if his eyes were treated to such a beautiful and pleasant sight as her face before viewing anything else, there wouldn't be anything he couldn't do for the rest of the day. He wanted to share in her triumphs and comfort her from her misfortunes. He wanted to listen to the sweet melody of her voice and learn from her the many things his background had withheld from him. He wanted to merge their different lifestyles into one happy, exciting way of life.

And these things he could not have meeting her occasionally in different cities for a day or two locked up in a hotel room "screwing their brains out." Neither could he have them in Colorado. It seemed the only place he could have them was in the one place he didn't want them: New York City.

Brick Henry and New York City; the two names were antonyms, exact opposites, not made for each other.

Or were they?

With the changes in attitude he had experienced in the last few months, was adapting to New York really that far-fetched? He'd wanted Chris to pick up and try living in Colorado, couldn't he attempt the same in New York? Of course, he could.

So, with no further thought on the matter, acting only out of love, Brick packed his bags for an extended trip and caught the first available flights to New York. He was too anxious to see Chris again to spend a few days on a train.