Burned Gasoline (9 page)

              “No, Raylyn. No peeking. Turn back. Or I’ll have to blindfold you.”

Damn, he’d seen her.

              “Yes…”

              “Yes, what?” His voice sounded surprised. Like he wasn’t sure he had understood her correctly.

              “Um… you know, what you just said. The thing you said you might have to do.”

              She heard his feet take the few steps separating them, and then his mouth was right above her ear.

              “Do you want me to blindfold you, Raylyn? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

              She shut her eyes tight and buried her face into the fabric beneath her and mumbled almost incoherently.

              “Yes.”

              “I’m sorry, did you say
yes
?”

              She simply nodded. And as quickly as his voice had been at the rim of her ear, he was gone and the room suddenly felt chillier than before. But the moment she opened her eyes and lifted her head from the blanket the view in front of her eyes became nothing but darkness and she felt his hands tie a knot at the back of her head.

              “Now,” his voice smoothed every fiber of nervousness going through her, “remember the feeling of my fingers inside you?” She wasn’t sure if she was suppose to answer him, but either way she didn’t have the chance to as two wet fingers quickly found their way inside her pussy.

              “Now, this is new. It’s cold because of the lube but it will be smooth.” Suddenly his fingers were replaced my something a bit more narrow, harder, as she could feel her insides tighten to clamp around it. “Feel that, Raylyn? Feel how slowly I push it in, inch by inch?”

              She’d never experienced anything remotely similar to this in her entire life. Her voice seemed stuck in her throat except for the air pushed in and out of her lungs, more rapidly by the second. Suddenly something cold ran down between her cheeks and made her jerk against the washer.

              “Just lube for the broom handle, Raylyn. Relax.”

              She could feel the liquid slowly make its way down from the top of her cheeks, until she felt the unexpected touch of his thumb at the opening of her anus. She jerked against the washer once more, and his hand stopped the movement of the broom handle inside her.

              “Sorry, but I’ve never done that.” She said, and clutched tightly to the blanket underneath her.

              “That’s okay. Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop if you want me to.”

              “No.” Her mumbling was as incoherent as the first time, as she was too embarrassed to say it out load.

              “Does that mean you want me to continue?” She heard the amusement shining through in his voice, and to answer him she simply nodded.

              “Okay, Raylyn. I’m not going to push in far, I’m just going to tap a little, touch a little, probe a little. I like your ass, okay?”

              “Oh, my God.” She gasped as the slow movement of the broom handle inside her pussy started up just as leisurely as before, but this time it was accompanied with what must have been the tip of his thumb barely inside the tight opening of her ass. “Oh, my God!” Her gasps for any divine being to rescue her from his slow touch, or not to stop the pleasure, became more frequent, until her chest heaved against the washer.

              “Raylyn.”

              “Yes?”

              “You can come now.”

              Those were the last words her ears could take in before she screamed in pure pleasure, and felt his hand and the broom leave her body, just to have his arms around her as she sunk down onto the laundry room floor tightly held to his chest. 

Chapter Ten

              As the morning light shone through the narrow gaps of the wooden blinds in the bedroom she noticed the heavy weight of an arm draped over her chest, holding her close. The warmth of a large hand weighed down on one of her breasts and made her all tingly on the inside. Without the ability to reach up and pinch herself, out of fear her bedroom guest would wake up, she clutched her eyes shut, as hard as she could, and let her sleepy face completely evaporated into a smile so wide she was afraid the corners of her mouth would rip her whole face apart.

              “What are you doing?” A low rumbling noise came from the dark haired head sunk down deep into the pillow right next to her face. Close enough for her to feel the warm waft of air from his mouth when he spoke.

              “Nothing.” She answered sweetly, but found it absolutely impossible not to smile.

              “I don’t believe you.” He said as he corrected himself and slowly moved on top of her, shuffling the comforter around them to keep the cold morning away from their naked bodies. His two large hands pushed the hair off her face and for a while he just held her like that. Looking at her. Until he bent down to kiss her.

              “I’ve got to brush my teeth.” She stopped him with a hand over her mouth right before his lips touched hers.

              “Come on, Raylyn. Loosen up. I didn’t see you eat any garlic last night, so I think we’re good.”

              “But…”

              “Stop with the
but
and move your hand away.” His nose nudged hard at the hand covering the lower part of her face.

              “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She mumbled and brought her hand to the side.

              “Just be quiet, Raylyn.”

              “Okay.”

              What he just started with that morning kiss brought back all the memories from the night before. He wasn’t even supposed to have stayed the night. Nothing had been planned, it had just happened, per say.

              When he’d touched her in laundry room the night before, and when he made her feel like a brave sexkitten from only his words making her please herself for his hungry eyes, it had been way too hard to stop, look at the time, and say their goodbyes. After last night she would never forget the smooth hardness of a broom handle, nor would she look at it the same way again. Ever.

              It was getting warm under the thick duvet cover he had pulled over them as he trailed kisses down her neck and down to her breasts.

              “Thank you for last night.” She managed to whisper in the dim light of the covers.

              He kissed his way back up to her lips and mumbled against her lips. “No, it should be me thanking you.” His body started to rock gently against hers, nudging her legs apart until she wrapped them completely around his waist.

              “Thump, thump, thump.” The sound made them both stop.

              “Nova?” He asked her, knowing she would clearly know the sounds of her own baby.

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything.

              “Thump, thump, thump.” There it was again. The sound returned.

              “Might be the door… but this early? No one knows me here. Probably the same stupid teens that stole my mailbox and placed that dead crow across the windshield of my car.” Her eyes asking him for an answer she knew he didn’t have.

              “What… what did you say? Hold on.” He said, but got himself out from underneath the warmth of the blanket and her inviting body. With boxers pulled on and t-shirt in hand she saw him walk down the stairs to the front door. Hopefully it wouldn’t be any of the church ladies she’d talked to last week at the store. If it was, they’d sure get a very happy morning in deed. Jefferson
with
clothes was a sight for sore eyes…

              The time ticked from the small alarm clock on the nightstand. He still wasn’t back. She’d heard him open the door, must have walked out, and closed it behind him. Perhaps someone was trying to play a trick on her again? Teens could come up with the craziest stuff, even when messing with someone living this far from town.

              Still, nothing seemed to happen. After ten minutes she felt she couldn’t hold out any longer and dressed herself in the fluffy pink robe hanging on the hook behind the bedroom door.

              As she walked down the stairs to the first floor there were suddenly voices outside, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. No, correct that, not voices. Grunts. When she opened the door to the cold outside world, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Two men were fighting on the bare cold dirt area just next to where hers and Jefferson’s cars. One of the men dressed in black dress pants and a blue shirt ripped opened, the other in nothing but white boxer shorts that had just a few minutes ago been on her bedroom floor.

              It didn’t matter how much her voice seemed to rise in strength, it didn’t carry across to either of them as they kept up good stamina fighting one another; from standing to lying on the cold hard ground. But she didn’t want to get between them either, afraid an accidental punch from either one of them would without a doubt completely knock her out.

              Frustration bubbled like molted lava in her veins and with no other solution in mind she rushed back inside for her mother’s old painting. She pulled it aside and took down her mother’s hunting rifle she’d hidden there the day she moved in. With it being fully loaded she hurried back out to the front of the house where the grunts were only getting louder.

              BOOM!

              “Chris!” She yelled. “Get the hell up from the ground and get back to your stupid life and your girls in New York. I don’t want any of it anymore. And you,” she pointed with her empty hand at Jeff. “Go put some clothes on for God’s sake. Both of you stop acting like children. This is worse than kindergarten, and I used to work there!”

              Both men stood up slowly, as in agony, brushed their bodies clean from leaves, grass, and pieces of dust.

              “So, you’re with this guy? Really, Raylyn? You could do so much better.” Chris bellowed, just asking for another solid punch in the ribs – which he got. Raylyn let the wind open up her pink robe, flashing her bare skin to the two men fighting about her, and placed the fired rifle back over her shoulder.

              “Chris,” she said, letting the wind blow her hair completely wild around her head, lighting a bright aura in the cold fall winds. She grabbed a solid hold of her robe which seemed to have its mind of its own. “I suck and fuck whoever I want. And that’s exactly what I want to do with Jeff. Get the hell away from my property, and don’t even think about coming back, or I’ll send another round of what I just shot in the air, up your ass. Got it?”

              Without looking at the two men standing there, bent over with hands on their knees, out of breath, on her front lawn, she secured the rifle and walked back up the steps to the front door. Before she closed it completely behind her she turned in her steps and grabbed a handful of her unruly hair in her fist.

              “You go fuck whoever you want, Chris, wherever you want, and fax me the rest of divorce papers. I’m not yours anymore, and never want to be, no matter how much or for how long you beg. You’re disgusting and you’ve made your bed, asshole. And for you,” she stared heatedly at Jeff. “Am I going to have to make my own bed today, or are you coming back up to finish what we started? Let’s get a freaking move on, before I kick you out as well.”

              The door slammed hard behind her, letting the two men take a quick peek at one another. Neither one uttered a word, nor were they stepping away. Jeff knew he was the one less screwed in the discussion, and let a small smile crawl up the side of his face before he told Chris his good bye.

              “Well, I seem to have a warm bed and a steaming woman to get back to. So, unless you want to stay and watch us fuck ourselves mad, I suggest you leave.” With a few long strides he was back up on the front porch in seconds, and vanished from Chris’s eyes just as fast.

Chapter Eleven

              The next few weeks went by in the same manner, and Raylyn didn’t mind it at all. Not that they’d made anything official about it, she was still not fully divorced from Nova’s father after all.

              Local media back home had blown up the affairs and her leaving Chris with Nova into the public eye, and whoever she’d called friends in the past had left the table. It surprised her that not a single person she knew from her life with Chris stood by her side, not even other mothers with small babies. Shouldn’t they be matching up, creating teams and high-five each other in support of their awful husbands who rather slept with women whom they hadn’t gotten pregnant?

              Sonia, the woman whom she’d met twice a week during a whole year for coffee, gone on trips with, and ran with, was the one that had stabbed her in the heart the very deepest. During all those get-togethers Sonia had only been fishing for family schedule arrangements, and steamy gossip of her and Chris in the bedroom, only to take full advantage of the information and sleep with Chris behind her back, in their bedroom, in the middle of the day.