Kat & Mick


Kat stopped her movements. We both panted as she squeezed me with her vaginal sheath. I longed to look into her eyes, to see what she was hiding from me in the night.

Reaching forward, I tried to pull the loose pajama top from off her shoulders. Kat saw my desire and sloughed it off behind her. She was radiant in the cool moonlight. Her full breasts filled my vision and drew my palms to cup the swell of their loveliness. Kat groaned as my hands caressed her and her hips took up the slow cadence of her deep moan as it filled the room.

So we danced! Kat leaned forward onto her arms, her breasts swaying to the rhythm of our hips. My own pelvis made a counterpoint to hers, undulating and writing together like the two-backed beast we had become.

And we sang! The low keening wail of Kat's pleasure and the luxuriant growl that rose from me coupled and interwove into a song of sensual passion that built in a steady crescendo. Even our panting breath harmonized as our oxygen-starved bodies slapped against one another in a percussive beat.

And we laughed! Just when I thought I was about to explode, Kat's nimble fingers tickled my side. I squirmed underneath her and was about to protest until I saw that luminous, impish smile that was my Kat. Even at our ages and with all the devilry we'd been through, from somewhere deep inside her our lovemaking drew out the young girl I'd fallen in love with so long ago. She began thrusting more playfully with those sweet hips and a gentle erotic laughter filled the air around us with magic.

"Take me, you great bear of a man!" she joyfully called out, encouraging me to another dance. "Why didn't you tell me this was the cock I was born to ride?"

"I tried to, you silly stubborn girl!" I laughed in reply. "I always knew you would taste this sweet."

She stopped for just a moment; her gaze boring down at me so hard even the darkness couldn't hold back the light in her eyes. "You haven't tasted me yet, you big braggart, but by God you will! And I'll taste you too, Michael. Now and every day hereafter for the rest of our lives. Pledge it to me right now! Say that's what you want!"

"As God is my witness, Kathleen O'MacNamara, I want you for the rest of my days. I'll love you and care for you like no other ever could. I'm yours. You're mine. Forever. Amen."

"A prayer, is it? Well, I know we're sinning here, Mick. But I'm beyond caring about that now. I love you, Michael. I can't deny that another year much less another lifetime. I want your babies and I want you in my bed. Forever and ever. Amen."

"Then it's done, Kat," I told her solemnly. "If man or beast tried to sunder it they'll be my hell to pay. Now ride me, my beautiful girl. When you're tired, I'll ride you. We've years and years of love to make up for."


In the morning, there was a knock at my door. I stumbled up, bleary eyed and blissful, having gotten practically no sleep all night. I opened the door naked with a goofy lopsided grin that even seeing the bastard that called himself my brother couldn't wipe from my mug.

"Is she in there?" Shawn demanded in a blustering tone.

"Is who in here?" I asked quietly, so low that he had to strain to hear.

"You know who," he bellowed, full of sound and fury. "You have my wife in there?"

"Not any more," I told him flatly, even as Kat walked up naked behind me. "She's mine now, Shawn. She'd never go back to your loveless bed again and I'd never let her."

"You can't do this, Mick! You can't get away with it. Come on, Kat! Come home with me," he went on, sounding more and more pitiful.

"I am home, Shawn," she said in a merry tone, her hand snaking around from behind me and rubbing my chest. "Go away and leave us be. You can find any woman to be what you need. I'm no good to you now, Shawn. Not after I've had better!"

We smiled as pleasantly as we could when we closed the door on him for good. Shawn ranted and threw things about for awhile outside but Kat was in my arms and I had no care about that.


Even now years later, after we tuck the little ones in, Kat and I will share a glass of Irish Mist and pull out the old sofa bed to relive that night. She's a damn fine woman, my Kat.

My Kat! I'll never tire of the sound of that!

Author’s note: I would appreciate any feedback on this story.

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