tagMatureA Moment of Bliss

A Moment of Bliss


Kendra Adams stared out the front windshield of her rental car, the sun blazing high, baking the featureless country side before her. The road lay ahead, a single strip of asphalt stretching to that billiard table like horizon. On either side of the road, deep green fields of corn stalks stretched tall; corn silk gently fluttering in the breeze, reaching for those golden rays that nourished its slender length.

The sun pierced the windshield, making the rental cars interior temperature soar, getting Kendra to crank the A/C knob to maximum. It was hot, ‘too hot for this time of year’ Kendra thought.

“Oh this kid better be good...getting me to drive out to east nose bleed to check out the game of some ‘Corn Fed’ farm boy.” Kendra mumbles, wiping the sweaty strands of curly auburn hair from her forehead. Kendra was the sole recruiter for a small, minute even, Division 1 college in northern Maine. For some reason, an alumnus- a very wealthy alumnus- decided the school needed a competitive mens basketball program. To say Kendra was having no luck was an understatement.

She’d scoured every junior college and midnight basketball league for an eligible player. She’d rounded out the squad with some less than superb b-ball talent. And in the last of her recruiting swing, she’d driven to small town in the corn belt to see a 19 year old Ju-Co drop out knick named “Corn Fed” Mark Bliss . Mark was a 6’ 5 “ forward, said to be blessed with the touch of “Pistol Pete” and the agility of a guy half his size.

Kendra was facing a doubled tough road for being the recruiter for a school that no one heard of and the fact she was a woman. An unfair stereotype. Her basketball expertise bloomed when she married a well known national basketball writer, nearly 30 years her senior. As time went on she got to love the game, know the game better than many others, so much so she was asked to replace her husband when he went into retirement several years ago. She declined, wanting to spend more time with her husband. But two years ago, at age 35 she was lured to the Maine school to help scout the women’s basketball team. She did such a remarkable job, assembling the men’s squad fell to her responsibility. Now she was away months at a time, leaving her husband at home.

As the corn went by her windows in a never ending emerald blur it just as suddenly stopped. The corn gave way to a vast open space centered on a large farm house and barn. Thrown in, almost like something out of a postcard, the obligatory wind mill. She also caught the glint of numerous panes of glass, cars assembled in a circle around the side of the home.

“Oh now what! Don’t tell me I have to compete with other recruiters for the ‘best kept secret’.” Kendra said turning off the asphalt onto the dirt road that wound towards the farm house.However as she drove closer, she could tell these weren’t rental cars like hers. No these were pick up trucks and jeeps old enough to have a generation of rust peppering the fender wells and bumpers. Stopping the car, Kendra could see most of the pick-ups had ‘lever actions, bolt actions and pump actions’ criss crossing the back windows.

“I am in a different world.” She thought, closing the sedans door witha dull thud. Grabbing her briefcase with one hand, the other went about smoothing the wrinkles out of her mini-skirt. Kendra was a woman of simple beauty. Her auburn shoulder length hair got kinked up in the humid air. She spent hours on hotel tread mills and weight rooms keeping shape. At 35 she knew mother nature had a stop watch running on her body. “Holding it together” now required more sweat to keep going. Her waist was trim but still she retained that bit of padding in the places that only she seemed to notice and that drover her mad. Kendra, in all, was the type of woman that looked beautiful without make-up and turned stunner with a simple application of eye liner and lipstick. Kendra also wriggled, walking in high heels over the gravel and cow patty strewn yard, to adjust her bra that uncomfortably tugged down on her shoulders under the weight of her breasts. Kendra sometimes lamented over a possible breast reduction, an idea suggested by her mom who was also ‘big bosomed’ and rebuffed by her particularly "breast fixated" husband. Mature, Kendra knew that this was a mans world and she had to find a way to play the game without compromising who she was deep inside. Kendra had a complex spirit with dreams and fantasies, many unrealized. One day she hoped to find the time to play them out. But for now, work dominated her life.

The odd, almost metallic clang, of the bouncing basketball acted as an audible beacon to Kendra, drawing her towards the barn. Slipping inside Kendra found not stalls for live stock and bails of hay, but instead a full sized basketball court. A loose crowd of mostly young women, and few young men, clustered around the court. Chants and “ooh’s” rose up. Kendra found a spot to survey the play on the court. Taking note that every girl seemed to be tall, slender and blonde. Almost cookie cutter fashion.

Standing at the free throw line was a towering, sandy haird young man. His chiseled jaw jutted out, eyes narrowed in a a piercing gaze locked on the netted rim. The ball slipped from his fingers, arching silently through the air and with a gentle swish the silence was broken by cheers. Backpeddling as fast as some ran forward. The game continued for another ten minutes with Mark running circles, and then some, around the competition. His legs long bundles of muscles and sinew, almost a blur as he ran and swirled. Arms lean and defined, Kendra stood stock still in absolute amazement.

A petite girl beside Kendra cooed to a friend, “ Isn’t he something.”

Kendra silently nodded to the question not posed to her. When a whistle blew the game broke up and the crowd of girls rushed onto the court surrounding Mark. Scattered around the perimeter of the court, stoop shouldered, panting, gasping for breath was the opponents. Wading forward, Mark smiled and high five the adoring crowd of girls. His arms waved over their heads, almost dwarfing them. As Mark made it off the court he cast glance at Kendra. She stared back, not enamored just with the obvious inkling of potential, but the way he looked. It touched something deep inside her. Her heart skipped a beat. She was utterly smitten.

“Hello..” Mark smiled as he passed Kendra.

“Hi,” Kendra smiled back, putting out a hand, “ My names Kendra Adams..recruiter for..”

Marks enormous palm wrapped around her hand. She shivered with excitement.

“Glad you could come by to see me play ma’am.” Mark looked down at Kendra as they walked out of the barn, hangers on and giggling girls in tow. Kendra picked up the pace to keep up with the long legged Mark. Kendra quickly gathered her whits.

Standing out in the brilliant sunlight, Kendra couldn’t stop looking at his tall, lean, muscular body. She unconsciously licked her lips, twirling her hair. Shifting in place as he walked away. He drover her to distraction.

‘Why am I so attracted to him!?’ Kendra thought, but as he walked away and his seeing the way his muscled body moved with purpose, power and a grace she knew.

Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned to see a chubby, attractive blonde woman, about her age.

“You must be Miss Adams. I’m Mark’s mother.”

Kendra smiled, flicking the switch to charming saleswoman, “ Hello Mrs. Bliss! So glad to meet you. I am so glad I could come out and visit. Lemme talk to you about Mark...”

Night fell over the Bliss farm, insects seem to roar in the absolute quiet of the country side. Since nightfall Kendra spent the hours talking, cajoling and trying to persuade Mrs. Bliss. She could tell to get to Mark, she would need to win over his mom. So to do that she cut potato’s, snap stringbeans and shuck corn anything to get to talk with Marks mom.

“Ever since Mark started growing so tall and playing basketball so well, people seem to come around all the time.”

Kendra looked up from her shucking, “ So why is Mark still here? I think if he came out to the college and we could show him...”

Kendra was cut off by Mrs. Bliss whos face awash with unmistakable sincerity.

“ Mrs. Adams, Kendra, Mark is still here because he wants too be. He knows I can’t handle the farm all by myself. Even with hired help it’s tough. He should’ve stayed in school. I know...” She stopped, turning back to the stove.

Kendra eyes dropped back to the corn. Every so often she’d come across a family hardship or heart wrenching story that would make her ache. She could hear in Mark’s mothers voice a pain and fear, that her son may have lost an opportunity to have something she nor anyone else in the Bliss family could have. Unlike fellow recruiters Kendra did not offer the stars and moon to every high school kid that could dribble a basketball. She’d seen scrupulous recruiters for big time programs offer whatever it took to lure the players to their schools.

Lure was the proper word Kendra thought, very base animalistic sense of competition amongst some recruiters. Cars, money, condo’s, women were all offered to the young men facing life decisions at their most confused part of their life. Many came from hardships, tough lives where the idea of those things being achievable for just bouncing a ball, was a nirvana. Kendra had to keep a moral balance, she knew she wasn’t going to get big time players; but she wanted the best, both in athletic and academic talent. That balancing act threw her off quite often.

Through the peeling wallpaper and chipped plaster walls both women could hear the insistent ping of the basket ball.

Through out the afternoon and evening Kendra tried to get Mark to sit down and talk about the college. But to no avail. After a few minutes a friend would come calling and away he’d go, off to play ball again. About 7 o’clock Mark, and several other friends- mostly giggling 19 year old girls, sat around the long kitchen table to feast on the enormous meal Mrs. Bliss made for the crowd. Kendra, for a while began to relax, turning off the recruiter part of her personality to be herself. Still she was uncomfortable. It was Mark. She was unable to look at him, it drover her mad with distraction. His physical presence was powerful and overwhelming. He had as gentle smile and a body that a Greek god would envy. His eyes were shy, darting away each time she looked at him. he almost seemed uncomfortable with the attention from the outside.

Each muscle defined. Each inch of his skin tanned to a bronze. She was mesmerized by the sinews of his neck and the way the veins traced his forearms. Yet he was a quiet young man, not the slightest hint of arrogance. Humble and self effacing, Kendra watched him noticing the way one young woman hovered close to him,

‘ Must be his girl friend. I don’t think she realizes how lucky she is.’ Kendra sighed, watching the young people savor life, the simple unhurried country life. A life she never knew. Her world was rush here, rush there. Get on this plane, call this person, email that person. Also this bounty of youth, pretty young women, reminded Kendra of her own age.

‘I’m not so young anymore...are you Kendra Adams?’

By 9 o’clock, Kendra sat, weary with chasing Mark around, trying to get him to sit and talk. As she sat sipping the last cup of coffee poured steaming hot from the old fashioned stove top percolator, Marks mother stretched to stand, “Kendra, it is awful late and I’d hate to think of you drivin all the way back to town. The nearest motel is a four hour drive from here. Now I’m not sure if it’s allowed, knowing how strict rules are, but would you like to stay here for the evenin? I have a spare room?”

Kendra glanced at her watch, never realizing where the night had gone. “Well I don’t think it would be a problem. Just a little country hospitality never hurt anyone. So long as you let me reimburse you...”

Mah Bliss held up a hand, “ No- no I insist. Its only right inviting a young lady to stay the night. I can’t have you out wandering ‘round.”

‘Young lady.’ Kendra thought, a smile coming to her face, ‘Mrs. Bliss you’re probably only a year or two older than me.’

But they came from different worlds. Harsh farm life wore on her, aged her quicker than she deserved. Pretty gold strands of hair faded gray all too quickly. Wrinkles etched the corners of her eyes.

Kendra stood, taking her bone china cup and saucer over to the sink, “Let me wash these for you Mrs. Bliss...”

“Thank you Kendra, and please...call me Marlene.”

With Marlene excusing herself to go and make up the spare room, it left Kendra alone with her thoughts and her dish washing chores. But , just a room away, two young women also thinking they were alone spoke freely and loud enough to be overheard by Kendra.

The voices were tittering, alive with news. Kendra tuned out the crickets chirp to listen to the hushed gossip.

“Oh my gawd he is so incredibly cute!” One voice said.

“I know- I know!” The second chimed in, both suppressing an obvious euphoria. “But did you hear what Cindy said about Mark!?”

Kendra listened more intently as she could hear the excitement level rise.

“Gawd she didn’t see it did she!? Is it true!? Is what they say true!?”

A pregnant pause captivated Kendra, she waited, wondering what the two women were talking about. But as she heard the whispers the insinuation was much more than innocent A grown would enrapt to the gossip of two 19 year olds. But it was about Mark and she had to listen. Before the words could drift the few feet a clatter of foot steps stole her attention.

Marlene appeared at the foot of the back staircase, “ All set, room is ready.”

Kendra strained to smile, “Thanks.”

The darkness of the room was cut by a wide shaft of gray/blue light. It’s eery shine cast by a full moon hovering in the ink black curtain of the night sky. So bright, in its turquoise shimmer that it cast shadows in the room, as if a blue filtered street lamp. The crickets sharp, sing song, chatter continued deep into the night. A song that caressed Kendra’s hearing, so attuned to the racket of a city. Even the quiet of the home Maine country side had a hard time comparing.

Kendra lay awake, staring at the ceiling, “ What is wrong with me?”

Her mumbling, accompanied by shifting back and forth in bed, arms crossed behind her head; all an echo of the words whispered in secret about Mark. She found her interest in the young man more than professional. Knowing that from the second she laid eyes on him several hours before, her infatuation bore its origins in a deep seated lust. In her travels she’d met men, some the height of arrogance, sure they were the greatest specimen of manhood every to grace the face of the earth.

Some recruits would make outright passes, if not gropes, on the beautiful 35 year old. She hated it, always rebuffing their testosterone driven advances, sometimes even giving up scouting them for the school. She didn’t want them to get an upper hand ina relationship that had to be professional to keep the ego’s in line. Some, she would admit were attractive, but never once would she ever consider doing what she now found herself considering about Mark.

The inextricable force of sleep slowly tugged her eyelids shut. Drowning out the sexual surges pulsing through her body. Professional decorum and ability to separate work from pleasure, melted away as she dozed off.

It was a soft, distant noise that pierced the peaceful night. She drowsily opened her eyes, trying to focus on where the noise was coming from. Through the creeks and moans of the nearly 80 year old farm house she could still hear it. Still too tired to comprehend what it was, Kendra found herself swinging her legs to the floor. Her feet, covered in an old pair of socks, touched the un-yielding pine floor boards. She pushed the hair from her face.

Pulling down the T-shirt, which she wore to bed, after it had ridden up int the toss and turns of a restless sleep. Always prepared for unexpected detours or lost luggage, Kendra always kept an overnight bag in the car. Packed with a change of clothes and something to wear to bed, along with essentials. The oversized university T-shirt covered her ample, full breasts well. Still they swayed, freed from a bra, under the cotton loving the way the material rubbed against her body. Wearing cut off sweat shorts, Kendra’s bare legs, smooth and well tanned, went to goose pimples as a strangely cool breeze caressed them.

Groggy, Kendra peaked out from her door down the long hallway that bisected the top floor of the Bliss farmhouse. All the lights were off, but still the ambient glow from the full moon seeped in, lighting her path. She inched forward. The sound was distinct. She knew what it was. It was unmistakable.

‘Gawd is that Mark...?’ Kendra thought excitedly. She could hear the sounds of a mans moaning. A strong, deep moan of pleasure. Kendras mind flashed into a wild image of Marks being ridden by one of his adoring admirers. Seeing his face awash with ecstasy as the willowy blonde rode his tall, long, lean body.

Kendra stopped as she was only inches from the door which the noise was emanating. She paused to look at her hands. They were trembling. She was in a trance. Mesmerized by the idea of seeing Mark’s naked body. Maybe even touching it. Tasting it. At the door the moans seemed constant. But a single voice. Her breathing was rapid, shallow. Nervous. Glancing around a final time, Kendra could see a narrow sliver of light coming from under the old, warped door. She knelt, breast swaying under their pendulous weight, placing an eye level to the old fashioned key hole. Her vision was blocked partially inside by something hanging from the old glass door knob. But what she could see was Mark’s large feet dangling off the end of the bed, slowly waving back and forth.

Unsteady because of her still groggy state, Kendra lost her footing, tipping forward. She stumbled, balancing herself, but not before accidentally knocking the door ajar. The whine of its old hinges seemed loud as it swung open a few inches. Kendra stood up, eyes wide, darting back and forth. Almost ready to retreat out of fear, she didn’t. She wasn’t herself. She wasn’t going to turn back.

Unexpectedly, Kendra took a deep breath, steeled herself and nudged forward into Mark’s bedroom. Head bowed slightly she peered around the door to see Mark’s nearly naked body bathed in a shaft of blue moonlight. He writhed alone. Obviously asleep, his unconscious mind stirring his body. Kendra stepped in, quietly closing the door behind. Her breathing trembled like her hands, quivering with excitement. She tip toed deeper into the room and now for the first time she got a look at Mark’s young, strong body. The room was silent other than the slow pant which rasped inside her heaving chest. She stifled a gasp. Kendra’s eye was caught by the masculine pillar that lay across one of his muscled thigh, a broad purplish head sneaking out of his shorts.

One of Kendra’s fetishe, one she never shared with anyone- certainly not her husband, was the complete captivation with the power and beauty of a naked man. Any and all parts of a naked man. While her gender are called " mentally stimulated", Kendra was an unabashed "visual..touch..taste" woman. Now in her rounds through community colleges and smaller university’s, she’d been in more than few locker rooms in her time. And she’d seen her share of men in all their glory. Flaccid and semi-aroused. Time passed, and Kendra found herself lingering on the bodies these players were blessed with. Kendra also knew black or white, when you got up 6 feet plus the proportions expanded in dramatic, sexually breath taking proportions.

And Mark lived up to that theory perfectly. Still trembling, biting her lip, Kendra stood by Mark’s bedside. Eyes darting back and forth between Mark’s gentle sleeping face and flaccid cock, poking out one leg of his shorts. Fingers gripping the bottom of her oversized shirt, Kendra pulled it off letting her breasts bounce unrestricted. Fingers drifted across the wide pale globes, cupping then tweaking erect nipples. Twirling and pinching, Kendra trembles grew more obvious. “Ungh,” Kendra stifled a moan as her pussy wetted by what she saw alseep before.

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