Silver LiningbyNakod Apa©
Rowena didn't swear. She never had done and thought those women who did lacked the intelligence and vocabulary to communicate properly.
To call it a bad hair day was an understatement. It seemed everything had gone wrong, which was why she had stayed late at the office to try and put things right; why she was driving home in the dark, her wipers struggling to clear the torrential downpour flooding the windscreen. Maybe just this once, she thought, it might be a relief to let rip with a good old fashioned expletive.
She certainly needed to explode when, a mile from her apartment, the engine died. At first it was shock, then anger, then depression as she steered to a stop by a thankfully clear kerb. Briefly burying her head in her hands she decided enough was enough. She just wanted to get home and close the world out. She'd deal with whatever ailed the car in the morning. Scrabbling in the glove pocket she found piece of paper and scrawled on it "Broken - Bust - Kaput - Don't Work" and stuck it in the windscreen.
Climbing out she locked the car before, briefcase on her head in a futile attempt keep her hair dry, she set off along the road. The chill wind snatched at her skirt and struck with chill fingers through her panty hose.
This was the seedy, run-down part of town leading to the more salubrious Clanaton area where she had lived in solitary comfort since her divorce. The council was supposedly about to launch a regeneration plan for it. And not before time, she thought tramping wearily into the driving rain. Every second street light seemed to be broken, the small shops either boarded up or closed and shuttered. Not a soul in sight except a hooded figure sheltering in an open doorway up ahead.
Suddenly apprehensive Rowena looked to avoid him. Maybe she should cross to the opposite pavement - but there wasn't one. Bishop's Park stretched a tentacle of trees and bushes down the other side of the road, a bulwark separating this neighbourhood from up-market Dunkesmead. She trudged on.
Just before she reached the doorway the figure left its shelter and walked slowly up the road ahead of her. A hundred yards and it stopped, turned and waited for her. Thinking it might be wise to go back she glanced behind her - two more hooded figures were leaving the open doorway and starting after her. Too late, she was sandwiched between the one in front and the two behind.
Uncertain, she approached the single man - perhaps, after all, he wasn't waiting to stop her. But as she got close he raised a hand and said, 'Wrong way, bitch. We've organized the fucking party for you back there.'
Thankful that she was wearing low heeled driving shoes and not her stilettos, Rowena ignored the intermittent traffic and impulsively darted across the road toward the park, frantically searching for a gap in the bushes. As she saw one and burst through to the grass beyond she heard a squeal of brakes and an angry horn behind her. They were after her!
Fifty, sixty yards and she reached a path. The going was easier, but she was only a little way along when the thud of feet behind said they were gaining. Panic forced her to run faster. It was no use, a hand clutched the back of her coat. Slipping on the wet surface she fell in a heap, her pursuer on top of her.
'Over here, guys,' he shouted. With a struggle Rowena rolled over and kneed him in the stomach, making him gasp.
'You'll pay for that, bitch. After we've done fucking you, we'll pass you on to a few of our friends so's they can have their fun. You'll not find them as gentle as us.'
She yelped as he twisted her arm behind her back.
'Excuse me, can I be of any assistance?'
An oldish man with an erect military bearing standing some ten yards further up the path. Leaning on a walking stick he surveyed the scene with an air of disapproval.
Where had he appeared from? The three attackers looked at each other then back at him.
'Piss off!' One of them said.
'Help! Help me, please. They're going to rape me,' Rowena pleaded.
Brandishing a flick knife one of the attackers moved menacingly toward the man. In response he lifted his stick and pointed it at the hoodlum's chest. The thug grabbed the end and pulled; seemingly there was no resistance and he stumbled back a pace holding what could now be seen was only the sheath of a thin, rapier-like sword-stick.
Regaining his balance, the thug rushed forward and recklessly attempted to stab the man, who neatly skewered the wrist holding the knife. The attacker shrieked and dropped his weapon.
'Anyone else want to try?' The man calmly said staring at the three miscreants. 'I used to be an expert with this.'
No one answered. He shrugged, 'Let her go.'
Slowly, watchfully the hoodlums drew back.
'Pick up the knife, my dear. Don't hesitate to use it on any of them if they try to hold you.'
Hastily grabbing the knife and her briefcase from the grass and Rowena moved to stand behind the man.
'Good night, gentlemen. And don't try to follow us.' Catching Rowena's elbow her rescuer cautiously led her along the path. Truculently the three would-be rapists watched them go.
Round a slight bend and the thugs were out of sight. The man stopped, turned to Rowena and asked, 'How are you feeling?'
'A bit shaky, but otherwise all right.'
'I can't see any injuries, except to your clothes. They're in a real mess.'
Feverishly Rowena inspected what she could see of her coat. It was covered in mud and dirt and one arm was ripped - also she could feel her tights were in shreds and water from a puddle seemed to have soaked her skirt and briefs.
'Could be worse I suppose. Thankfully they're only working ones, not my best.'
'You don't seem bad in yourself. Maybe a little shocked and disoriented right now - as one would expect in the circumstances. But it will hit you soon. Might I suggest you come back to my place and rest until you feel better. It's just the other side of the park.'
'Thank you. I would like to sit down for a moment.'
One hand on her elbow he drew her down the path to the Dunkesmead side of the park and out across a brightly lit road lined on its far side with a terrace of large Edwardian residences.
'I can't thank you enough. I shudder to think what they would have done to me if you hadn't come along.'
'Don't dwell on it. Glad to be of service. Life has been somewhat dull since my wife died. By the way I suppose I should introduce myself. Major Bowen, retired.'
'I might have guessed from the way you handled those yobs that you were a military man. I'm Rowena Moore-White, was Mrs. now, thankfully, back to plain Miss.'
'Pleased to meet you Miss Rowena Moore-White'
'And I you, Major.'
'Here we are. This is my billet.'
He led the way through a low, wrought iron gate, up a short path to a solid door topped by a Tiffany style fanlight of stained glass depicting stylized flowers. Fishing a key from his pocket he opened the door and ushered her inside. The layout was traditional - a narrow hall with doors to the right side and what was probably the kitchen at the far end, while a staircase on the left led to the bedrooms on the upper floor.
Just inside the entrance was a large coat stand and full length mirror. As she moved past Rowena paused to inspect the damage to her clothes. They might clean up, though she doubted it. At the moment she could have been a fugitive from a bout of mud wrestling.
The Major hesitated and looked at her. 'You are in a bit of a state, my dear. But first things first. Let's deal with any shock. They do say the best remedy is hot sweet tea, though I was brought up to prefer a good tot of brandy. I think a hot toddy to start while we get you out of those clothes. After which I'll brew a pot of the other. Earl Grey suit you?'
'Sounds great, Major. But what can I wear?'
'Oh, I've still got most of my late wife's things. I'm sure there's a gown or bath robe amongst them.'
'That would be most kind.'
'And since I expect you've got a good few aches, not to mention the bruises, I would recommend a good hot bath.'
'I couldn't impose to that extent.'
'Not at all, my dear, it will be a pleasure. Come on let's get you into a warm tub. Then I'll find that hot toddy. I'll organize the tea while you're soaking.' Without waiting for a response he turned and marched up the stairs to the bathroom, Rowena perforce docilely following.
The large, old fashioned, cast iron bath filling with steaming water, soft towels found in the airing cupboard, an old fashioned cotton dressing gown produced with a flourish, he said, 'Just get yourself undressed and into that. I'll go and get the drinks.' Muttering, "Good thing I decided to light the fire" he went down to the lounge and, grasping it from its place propped against an andiron, he stuck a poker in the coals of the open fire. While it was heating he collected the spirits from a cabinet in the corner and the sugar and spices from the kitchen. Ten minutes later he plunged the now hot poker into the mixture. The spicy scent of the toddy wafted around the room.
Carefully carrying a steaming glass he returned to the bathroom and knocked on the door calling, 'Your remedy is without, Madam.'
'Just a moment.' Almost comatose in the bath Rowena roused to find a washcloth and arrange it over her pussy. She'd never been particularly shy before men, indeed she was rather proud of her shapely boobs and saw no reason to hide them. 'You may enter.'
'Here you are, my Lady.' Making no attempt to avert his gaze the Major handed the glass to her through the rising steam. For several moments he frankly and appreciatively inspected her breasts. 'Delightful,' he observed.
'Thank you, Sir. You are most discerning.' she smiled. Her cheeks reddened by more than the hot water as she noticed the way the front of his trousers bulged.
He turned away and gathered her discarded clothes from where she had dropped them on the floor. 'I'll just run these through the washing machine. Get the worst of the dirt off.'
As he left she caressed a full breast, unsurprised at the erect firmness of its nipple. She was conscious of her situation - naked in the house of a stranger who would clearly delight in bedding her. And if she were honest she rather welcomed the possibility, for it must be all of two years since a man had last filled her. She had almost despaired of finding someone both suitable and available for whom to part her thighs.
But how ironic, and where was her logic? She runs in panic from the hoodlums who would take her, only to effectively offer herself to the first man to provide succour. Oh sex, wonderful sex, where logic and common sense capitulate to emotion and need.
The warmth and the spirits were doing their job and Rowena was sleepily dozing when she heard him call, 'The tea is ready if you are.'
'Coming!' She replied.
Climbing from the bath she swiftly dried herself as best she could, for her hair, despite being short and curly, defeated her efforts to restrain its wild exuberance. Wearing only the dressing gown she sedately descended the stairs.
As she entered the lounge he asked 'Have you eaten, my dear?'
'Not since lunch. I was on my way home to get myself a meal when it happened.'
'I guessed as much. I've put a few vegetables on the stove. If it suits I'll add a cheese omelet. Very simple but perhaps suitable in the circumstances.'
'That would be delightful. Thank you so much.'
The meal over, coffee taken, they sat in heavy, overstuffed armchairs either side of a warm, relaxing fire finishing a second bottle of wine. A pause in the conversation and the Major moved to stand before her.
Taking the glass from her fingers he carefully set it on an occasional table, unbuttoned and removed his smoking jacket and regimental tie, then sat on the arm of her chair.
When he pulled her gently towards him and tenderly ran his fingers down her cheek Rowena felt a surge of desire stir in her heart and between her legs - she wanted, nay needed, to feel him inside her. But instinctively she stiffened and drew back.
It seemed an eternity since she had last been taken and while he made her feel special, what did she really know of this man she had only met a short hour or two before? Was her desire merely the result of the scare? Yet he had saved her from being raped, if not worse. Surely she owed him and if he wanted her why refuse to reward him with her body?
He smiled at her, 'Not if you don't want to. Though it is said that following danger we all feel an urge to make love.'
"Make love" he'd said. It hinted of affection, not just being used and enjoyed. She felt a trickle of damp slip down her thigh. How good was he going to be in bed, she wondered.
Slowly she leant into him and kissed him lightly on the lips. He kissed her back. He ran his lips down her neck and nuzzled her ear before sliding his hand into the robe to cup her left breast. Her skin was smooth, the flesh firm and warm to his touch. Confidently he spread the robe wide and cupped both breasts. God, it felt good. Her nipples hard and erect she quivered in delight, moaning softly.
Sliding her hands between their bodies she awkwardly attempted to unfasten his shirt. Impatiently he pulled it free and shrugged it from his shoulders, then clasped her against him, his mouth once more on her's, urgent and demanding. Willingly she parted her soft lips to his invading tongue. Her breasts were being crushed tightly against his hard chest. Her body was thrilling, throbbing with her need to be taken, to be used, to be enjoyed. At last he pulled back, gasping for air.
'Come.' He stood and one hand under her legs, the other across her back, he lifted her and started toward the door, the now open robe trailing from her shoulders.
'Don't be silly, you can't carry me up the stairs.' Rowena wriggled free. Standing she lowered her arms and with a shake of the body that caused her breasts to jiggle let the robe slip to the floor. Naked she reached for his hand. Together they climbed to his bedroom.
He closed the door behind them and came to her as she stood beside the old fashioned, ornate double bed. As their lips met and tongues searched each other's mouths she could feel the bulge of his erection hard against her belly.
Lowering his head to her full mound he licked around the stiff nipple while his hand undid the buttons of his trousers.
'Can I help?' Rowena asked, her hands covering his and firmly pushing his white boxer shorts down to create space to run her fingers along his hard shaft.
For a while they stood, his mouth sucking her bud, their fingers each exploring the other's bush - his coarse and curly, hers soft and delicate.
Abruptly he stepped out of his trousers and shorts and, naked, lifted her onto the bed. Now his hands and mouth were all over her, feeling, caressing, sucking, kissing everywhere.
Pausing, trying not to hurry, but sensing an eagerness equal to his own, he lifted his head and watched her eyes as lightly he stroked her belly, slid his hand across her hips, then lower, his finger tips grazing the skin. She groaned, raised her head searching for his lips - kissed him.
With a feathery touch her hand slipped along his thigh. He buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent, as her fingers again found their goal and wrapped around his stem caressing him.
He groaned and moved on top, her legs parting to welcome him. His fingers found her entrance, opening the way, massaging her clit. She made small sounds, little cries, positioned his tip, urgently arched her back to take him inside. He pushed forward, thrusting deep. She curled her legs round him, holding him tight.
Now they were just two halves of a whole, driving into each other, aware of nothing but the joy of each other. She felt the pressure grow inside her, sensing that he also was getting closer. His thrusts grew stronger, his moans louder, his breathing deeper. Suddenly he cried out and she felt him explode inside her, his warm seed filling her, evoking her orgasm. Her muscles contracted round his shaft, milking him, pumping him dry.
Afterwards they lay quietly, arms and legs intertwined, sweat slowly cooling their skin, exhausted.
Some time later he rolled from her, sat up and reached for the covers then extinguished the light. Contented Rowena slipped into a deep sleep.
Rowena woke to the chink of a cup and saucer being placed on the bedside table. She opened her eyes and stretched. The major, dressed in his old robe, was at the window opening the curtains. The rain of last evening had been swept away, it was a beautiful, clear dawn.
As she sat up the bed clothes slipped to expose her breasts to the early morning sunlight. Turning toward him, her body language was explicit - 'I'm ready. I'm yours. Take me, enjoy me.'
He turned from the window and came to her, leaning forward to kiss each offered breast. Playfully he licked her stiffening nipples. Her breathing became deeper, slower and she felt for the fastening of his robe. Pulling it open she bared his chest and whispered, 'Please. Now.'
He rolled her hard buds between thumb and forefinger, sending a tingle to her dampening cunni, then slid the robe from his shoulders and pulled the bed clothes down past her thighs. He stroked her stomach and caressed her bush, twisting a strand of fine hair in his fingers. She quivered with delight and moaned loudly. He cupped her breasts, squeezing and fondling them while he lifted himself to the bed and mounted her. His legs between her raised knees he rubbed the tip of his tool along her furrow. Pushing a hand down between their bellies she felt for his hard length, positioned him at her entry and thrust up with her hips, took him inside. Then lifting her legs she locked her ankles behind his back.
Although he was on top it was Rowena who set the pace, her hips thrusting and falling beneath him. The Major let her do the work while he bent his head down and sucked her nipples. When he felt her contract around him he responded by driving hard and fast until she gave a loud cry of delight as he emptied himself into her.
He rolled from her and quietly they lay together. As she gently stroked his hair he teased her nipples with his fingers.
'I've got to go,' she said.'
'Yes, I suppose you must,' he agreed.
For several more minutes they lay almost motionless until she turned and slid down his body gently kissing and nuzzling him until she found his limp cock. Taking him into her mouth she sucked him - encouraging him to stiffen again.
'You're insatiable,' he said.
'But I'm only saying thank you.'
'In that case I must find other ways to serve you.'
She grinned, 'No, it's my turn to serve you.'
Lifting herself from him she twisted and straddled his hips. He sighed happily as she mounted him lowering her hungry cunni onto his now solid pole. His hands brushed her thighs, grasped her waist and pulled her down to consume all of him. She started to wriggle, hips rocking to and fro as she slid up and down his stiff shaft. His fingers found her eager breasts as she vigorously rode him, while she closed her eyes and bit her lip - moaning with pleasure at the pressure and energy raging through her.
Leaning forward she offered her breasts to his eager mouth. Gently at first, then harder, he sucked their firm tips; tried to take all of her into his mouth; bit her lightly; moaned and poured himself into her. Rowena arched her back, cried out in delight and joined him in his ecstasy.
'I wanted to last longer,' he said, 'but you're so perfect I cannot contain myself.'
They lay side by side for some time. Gently he rolled and caressed her nipples while she stroked his now soft and exhausted staff. After a while she said, 'I really ought to be going. I've got a job to keep and a car to have fixed. May I come back?'