You Can't Get There From Here

Mary's lips were even sweeter than he had imagined, so full they covered his completely. She slipped her arms around his neck, and the kiss grew quickly more passionate. Their mouths started to slide together, and he could taste the fruity aftermath of the juice she had been drinking. Brad's strong arms moved lower to her waist pulling her tighter to him. She sighed in the back of her throat, and the sound created an even greater desire in Brad's heart.

He pressed his lips tighter still, and his tongue darted out to flick gently against the tip of Mary's making her tremble. It had been so long since he had kissed a woman like this...Not since...Since.

Brad broke the kiss abruptly taking a step back, panting, feelings of lust and guilt assaulting him in equal measure.

"Brad? What's wrong?" asked Mary.

"It's...nothing...I'm glad you're all right..."

He started to turn away, but Mary stepped into his path.

"Did I do something wrong? Was it that bad? I haven't been kissed in while I might be a bit out of practice."

"What! No...It was nothing like that you kiss...very well...too well...I'm...It's hard to explain."

Mary reached out taking Brad's hand that shook in hers revealing the war that was raging inside him.

"It's o.k. Brad...I wanted you to kiss me."

"It's not o.k.! IT'S NOT!" Brad yelled yanking his hand away.

He felt instantly terrible when he saw the look of shock that crossed Mary's face.

"I'm sorry," he said in a quieter voice, "look, can we just go back to the house, please?"

Mary nodded, and they walked back to the hill together gathering up their things and returning to the house in silence with only Smokey's panting to mask the lack of conversation.

When they arrived, Brad made a beeline for the bathroom throwing cold water in his face then drying it with a towel from the cupboard. He stared into his haunted eyes in the mirror.

"I'm sorry Annie. I don't know what to say...I wasn't trying to forget you...I wasn't" he said to his reflection.

If he had expected a reply from his long-dead wife, he was sorely disappointed.

Brad figured he would find Mary gone by the time he pulled himself together, but Smokey was laying in the hallway his eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly.

"Must be nice..." said Brad stepping over the sleeping dog.

He thought he heard a voice coming from the study, so he made his way there stopping in the doorway. Mary was sitting on the couch looking much as she had the day before with the single volume of poetry sitting in her lap unopened. She was reciting a poem to herself as if from memory.

"You carry your sorrow like a blanket, draped over your broken heart.

And all the tears you cry get saved, for another night in the dark.

You wish for a road out of the sadness, a way back to where you began.

But you stumble, lost in your madness desperate for a hand.

Till a voice calls out your name says there's a path back to your life.

A trail that will get you where you need to go if you only open your eyes.

See, there's time for holding on and a time for letting go.

And a way out of your loneliness if you understand where to go.

The problem isn't the lack of a road, it's a problem of too much fear

And you can hide as long as you want, but you can't get there from here.

You can't get there from here.

You have to find another road.

Can't start living for tomorrow until you let me go.

You can hide away from all the sorrow...pain...and fear.

But you won't find your way like that...you can't get there from here."

Her voice faded away, and Brad took a tentative step into the room.

"That was beautiful. I'm not familiar with it. Was it someone I might have heard of?"

"I wrote it...Well, with a little help."

"You keep surprising me with all these hidden talents. What else can you do I don't know about?"

"This," said Mary quietly.

She stood up from the couch and started to unbutton her dress down the front. The tan skin of her chest was revealed one small bit at a time while Brad felt frozen in place unable to move. The last button slipped free, and she reached up pushing her shoulder straps off letting gravity do the rest. Her dress hit the floor with hardly a noise.

Brad's heart raced in his chest. He wanted to look away, but couldn't tear his gaze from the beautiful half-naked woman ten feet in front of him.

Mary had gone without a bra, and it was clear she spent a lot of time outside with even less than that on. There were no tan lines on her body to speak of every inch of her skin kissed by the sun. Her breasts were perfectly round and upthrust, the skin darkened to a rich brown with wide areolas of an even deeper shade. The perky nipples that capped each mound were thoroughly aroused and pointing at Brad. She did have on a pair of panties the same color as her dress, but they didn't stay in the picture long as she slipped them off as well. The area between her legs was lightly trimmed with her pubic hairs a honey blond contrast to the dark skin around them.

She started to close the distance between them, and Brad found his voice.

"Mary...I don' think...I mean...I'm not sure..."

Her fingers pressed onto his lips silencing his next objection.

"Hush now," she said.

She took his hands guiding them to her stomach and then slowly up over her ribs.

Brad started to shake, a desire he had long forgotten existed inside of him was fighting to be set free. Mary's skin was like velvet and when his hands arrived at her breasts the sudden heat that erupted under his palms made him shudder even more with barely controlled lust. The firm flesh of her nipples traced a line along each of his hands, and he couldn't help but squeeze her love mounds gripping them enough that Mary sighed in the back of her throat.

The moment seemed to stretch out as the pair balanced on the edge then Brad groaned his inhibitions crumbling. His mouth found Mary's bare breast kissing the smooth skin all over before he carefully ran his tongue across the bumpy surface of her dark brown areola making her shiver in his hands.

"Oh...Brad...Yes..." she whispered.

Driven by her words, he sucked her nipple into his mouth catching the turgid button between his teeth and nibbling at it before sucking it hard. Mary grasped the back of his head pressing his lips tighter to her body.

"Yes! Oh! God! Yes! Suck them, Brad! I want to feel your kisses all over my body!"

He lifted her as easy as a child carrying her back toward the couch. They kissed all the way there, deep, hungry, French kisses their tongues dancing a sweet tango of lust. The couch cushion took Mary's weight quietly while Brad kissed her neck and started to work his way down doing as she requested kissing every part of her he could reach. The sounds of her soft cries of pleasure filled the room as he closed on the gleaming fur between her legs.

"Ah! Sweet Lord! Yes!" moaned Mary.

Brad felt the curly hairs of Mary's Venus mound tickle his nose. The scent of her wet pussy was making his head spin, and he plunged into her body letting his tongue lap at the tart juice that poured from within her. He felt her body start to writhe on the couch pressing her pussy tighter to his face. The top of her vaginal hood spread back against his tongue, and he found her clitoris fully engorged. The hard pea rolled across his tongue sending Mary's body arching upward.

"Oh! Oh! Brad! Right there! OH! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

The urges were pouring into him now filling him with a need he hadn't enjoyed in so long. He stood away from Mary ripping his t-shirt off over his head then working frantically at his belt to get his jeans off. Mary watched from the couch licking her lips in anticipation. The bulge that shown through his underwear when his jeans hit the floor was large enough to cause her some momentary worry, but her desires couldn't be contained anymore than Brad's.

She went to help by slipping her fingers into the corners of his boxers and pulling them down letting his stiff cock drop into view. The thick head was swollen with blood. The shaft itself fully elongated pushing that same reddish cock head towards her lips and Mary didn't shy away leaning forward to kiss it before running her tongue straight up his slit. The salty taste of his fluid coated her tongue, and Brad moaned, low and deep at first, but even louder when she took a good portion of his throbbing rod into her mouth.

"Ah! Jesus! It's been so long!" he cried.

Mary's full lips slipped up and down his shaft leaving the skin wet and glistening. Brad ran his fingers through her long, soft hair lost in the feelings that were rolling through his body. Her nimble fingers toyed with his tight ball sack making him wince with the effort to hold back the flood of semen that was trying to push its way up. He finally broke free pulling his cock from her in a move to save his orgasm for her to share. They fell back together toward the couch with Mary spreading her legs and wrapping them around Brad's muscular ass. His cock was poised at the entrance to her vagina, and the wet heat teased his erection.

They joined their flesh with a single mutual thrust Brad's penis pressing deep into the wet folds of Mary's pussy. The groans that escaped from their lips blended into a harmony of lust filled noises as they drove their body's together again and again. Mary grabbed at Brad calling into his ear as her orgasm grew into an uncontrollable need to come.

"Brad! Oh...OH! Baby, it feels so good! So good! Ah! God, you're so big and hard! Ah, fuck! Brad, you're going to make me cum! Oh! BRAD! You're going to make me cum! OH! Fuck! Ah! Fuck! Ohhhhh Braddddddddd!"

He had forgotten it could be this way. Mary's body was so neatly joined to his he fancied he could feel her heart beating through his shaft. Every thrust carried him forward on a building wave of pleasure that just seemed to grow taller and taller still until the pounding of their flesh reached a terrific crescendo punctuated by their cries of release. Mary's orgasm gripped his cock and all the pent up frustration of years of denial poured out of him in an unrelenting flood.

"Ahhh! Maaarrrrryyyyyy!" he screamed as his cock sent a seemingly endless stream of thick, hot, semen shooting into Mary coating the walls of her pussy.

They came down slowly together trading soft, sweet kisses.

Brad tried to find the words, but nothing he could think to say seemed appropriate to define this moment. The first time he had felt truly alive in years. Mary seemed to sense his struggle, and she took over to ease his suffering by saying, "This couch is killing my back. Don't you have a bed around here?"

The slamming of the bedroom door made Smokey raise his head and growl angry at having his nap interrupted. He sniffed the air and shook his head catching the faint whiff of two animals mating. If he could have voiced his concerns at that moment as a human would have it would have been to say, "Keep it down you two, some of us are trying to sleep."

The big German Shepherd lowered his head back to his paws groaning in annoyance while the cries from the other side of the wall signaled another round of coupling.

Brad finally lay back against the sheets a thin sheen of sweat covering his body. He had lost track of exactly how many times he and Mary had come together in the last two hours, but he did know that he was well and honestly spent. She snuggled up next to him laying her head on his chest and running her fingers across his skin.

"That was amazing," she said quietly.

"I can't take full credit. I believe you may have had something to do with it," joked Brad.

Mary smacked him playfully on the chest then went in for a quick kiss tasting the salty sweat that had run down from his cheeks during the last hard throes of their mutual love-making.

"I need to get going," she said glancing out the window at the setting sun.

"I think maybe this one time I would be willing to risk getting dog piss on my seat cushions. We could put down a towel or something?" suggested Brad.

"I prefer to walk. I just don't want to do it in the dark."

"Suit yourself, but it would be nice if you stayed after sunset at least once. The sky is gorgeous here at night. I would love to share it with you."

She hesitated at the foot of the bed, "That would be awesome. We will have to see, but right now I need to get moving."

"Used and abandoned! What will become of me?" cried Brad in mock horror setting off gales of laughter from Mary as she vanished out the door and down the hallway to find her clothes. She returned for a last kiss resting on her elbows as she leaned over the bed.

"See you tomorrow?" she asked as she stood back up.

"Sure. At the very least we need to get to those paintings. We seemed to get side-tracked every time."

"I bet I could sidetrack you again," said Mary giving a provocative wiggle of her hips as she walked out the door.

"I just bet you could," echoed Brad as he lay back on his pillow.

The night fell quickly after Mary departed and Brad hoped that she managed to make it home before the darkness claimed the surrounding woods. He had showered off and changed into some clean clothes before going down to the kitchen to hunt for an evening snack. He stood debating between two equally unappetizing boxed treats when the headlights of a car hit the house. The big sedan swung wide of his vehicle parking a few yards away. Brad stood on the porch wondering who would be visiting him out here.

The driver's side door on the car opened and a woman stepped out. She was middle-aged with graying hair that at one time had likely been raven black, but now looked as if it was covered in cobwebs.

"Hello there! Can I help you?" asked Brad puzzled.

"Are you Brad Parks?" asked the unknown woman as she gingerly mounted the steps limping a bit on her left leg.

"Yes, Ma'am. Here let me help you," answered Brad reaching out to steady her.

"Thank you, Mr. Parks. I'm not quite as spry as I used to be," she said with a grin.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage Miss. You seem to know me, but I have no idea who you are."

"Oh! Sorry, I forget my manners sometimes. I'm Marian Cummings. Rodney Reese told me to contact you about some art that was painted by the McKenna's that I was interested in."

Brad wrinkled his brow in confusion, "You're the neighbor interested in the McKenna's art?"

"That's right. I live a couple of miles up the road. I used to be friends with the McKenna's before they passed. Sad, really, they were truly talented artists and the husband, Frank, he was also quite a guitar player as well."

"I see," said Brad his brain still reeling a bit from the revelation.

"Is everything o.k. Mr. Parks, you look a might confused?"

"No, I'm fine; it's just...You don't have a daughter do you, Mrs. Cummings?"

"A daughter? Sorry to say no I never had any children. Female troubles you understand."

"Oh...Um...Sorry," said Brad awkwardly.

He scratched his head in thought.

"Well, I never exactly asked her if she was the one that talked to Rodney. Maybe this is all just a big misunderstanding?" he mused to himself.

"Do you know the other neighbors that live in this area, Ma'am?"

"Son, I've spent my whole life here. I know everybody," she said with a chuckle.

He quickly described Mary for her asking if she lived somewhere within walking distance of the McKenna's.

It was Marian Cummings turn to scratch her head in thought.

"No...I can't say that description matches anyone I know of that lives around here. Are you sure she wasn't somebody from in town?"

"If she lives in town she walks faster than anyone I've ever met," said Brad.

He was still stewing on the porch when Mrs. Cummings cleared her throat.

"Not to be a bother, but I would like to get back home before it gets real late. Would you mind if I took a look at those paintings now?"

"Sure, right this way," said Brad holding the door for her.

It took a bit of effort to get the older lady up the stairs, and she stopped on the last one to catch her breath before pushing off down the hallway. Brad led her to the McKenna's old studio and opened the two crates on the floor for her. She started to pull out the various canvases while he leaned against one wall lost in thought over just who Mary was and where she went every evening.

"I want to take these two," said Mrs. Cummings holding up a pair of woodland paintings.

Brad moved them aside for her while she kept looking.

"Oh! Would you look at that...I had forgotten Frank ever painted a portrait of her. I can tell you I won't be wanting this one too many bad memories."

She stood up holding a large canvas in her gnarled old hands before handing it over to Brad. He glanced at it briefly intending to set it aside but stopped short when he recognized the woman in the frame.

Frank McKenna had obviously been a talented artist. He had captured the young woman in such vivid detail that she seemed to almost come alive on the canvas from her honey blond hair and bright smile right down to the deep meadow green of her eyes. There was no doubt in Brad's mind. It was Mary staring back at him.

"Who is this?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"What?" said Mrs. Cummings standing back up, "Oh...Why that's Mary McKenna, Frank and Harriet's daughter."

"Their daughter?" echoed Brad.

"Yeah...A tragic story that one. Mary was their only child. A real little spitfire too I'm here to tell you. She ran all over these woods like she owned them. Her and that dog of hers...What was his name?"

"Smokey," offered Brad.

"Yeah! That's right, Smokey. How did you know that?"

"Lucky guess. Please go on, Mrs. Cummings."

She looked at him strangely but continued her tale.

"Anyway, Mary went away to college, and when she graduated, she came back to visit for the summer. I guess that was about twenty-five years ago or so....maybe longer my mind ain't too good with keeping track of dates you know? So like I was saying, Mary came back to visit and one night that dog of hers..."

"Smokey."

"Yeah, Smokey. He gets out like he was so prone to do. He was always chasing squirrels and deer and whatnot that crazy dog. He gets out and takes off into the woods. Mary, she loved that dog more than life, and she lit out after him even though her parents were yelling at her to stop. They all knew how dangerous those woods could be in the dark. Poor Mary...She never saw it coming. See, there are a lot of old wells in the woods from back when homesteaders used to work this land. Well, Mary, she fell right into one. They didn't find her body until late the next day when the Sheriff came out with some folks to look for her. They say Smokey was laying right next to the well hole whimpering. They think she broke her legs in the fall and drown when she couldn't stay afloat. Terrible...just terrible."

Brad was leaning against the wall again his face white as a sheet.

"Are you alright, Mr. Parks? You look like you just seen a ghost."

"I did more than just see one," said Brad under his breath.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Mrs. Cummings.

"Nothing...Let me help you carry these to your car," offered Brad.

Marian Cummings drove away shortly after leaving a very disturbed Brad Parks in her wake. He sat up for hours looking out at the woods that had taken on a much more sinister caste in light of what he had just learned.

"Is that why you always left before dark, Mary? Couldn't face those woods at night could you?" said Brad to the darkness.

He feared he would never sleep that night but the human body is a machine, and every machine wears down after a while. He nodded off in the rocking chair as the moon rose above the trees lighting the landscape in its macabre glow.