Dead Write Ch. 07

*A repost of an old romance story with a fresh edit.*

******

Sam enjoyed the landscape of Sherry’s body, as the shower rained on her pink hills and valleys. His fingers slid from her satisfied clitoris to splash in her belly button pond.

Wrapping his arms just under her breasts, he hugged her, and whispered, “You're beautiful."

In the quiet afterglow, while holding her in his lap, he thought of Jan, and realized three years had passed since making love had been uncomplicated by illness. This week was a resurrection of physical delights. Sherry's transformation from schoolmarm to mistress compounded the pleasure. Sex felt almost virginal.

Aloud he said, "Sherry, if there is anything that you want me to do for you, just tell me."

"Mmm, I've never felt so… satisfied."

Sam heard the hesitancy, and thought she paused because she really wanted to say, "so loved".

"I bet you say that to all your horny old men."

"You're right, Sam, I do." She tipped her head back for a kiss, then turned, straddled his hips, and rubbed the bar of soap until her palms foamed. "Let me wash your pipe cleaner, Mr. Plumber." Blocking the spray with her body, the soapy hands encircled his snake and lathered its expanding length.

"What an excellent apprentice. You show initiative and mechanical aptitude with the tools,” he said, resting his head against the tub, while she familiarized herself with the equipment.

Wearing a frown of deep concentration, she pumped the shaft and tickled his balls. Then released her grip to press the rod against his stomach and used both palms to rub up and down the sudsy underside. Next, the sensitive skin at the base of his glans became the target of her thumb and index finger. Gently, she pinched and twisted the circumcised foreskin.

The disconnected look on her face bothered Sam. This didn’t seem like a touch of affection. It didn't feel like a natural exploration of pleasure, but more like going through predetermined motions. Lifting her chin to make eye contact, he asked, "Is everything all right, Sherry?"

A worried face said, "Why? What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

"Wrong? No. You just look so serious. If you're uncomfortable, tell me."

"No, Sam, it's not that. I was just trying to do it the way..." her voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"The way Jan used to?"

She looked away. A blush answered for her.

Desire began to cool. "Let's dry off and go somewhere more comfortable."

Smiling, she took his hand and led him from the tub. "I know just the place."

Sam picked up a blow dryer and cleared the mirror, while Sherry pulled towels from the linen closet. After handing him one, she began to dry.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sam demanded, yanking her towel away. "That's my job." Throwing the towel over her, he sponged her tousled hair, then wrapped it around and dried her back, while her chest rubbed against him.

"Oh, this is a much better idea," she said, and used the other towel to dry his back.

He spun Sherry toward the mirror, and dried her shoulders and arms, before studiously toweling off her breasts. "I like mirrors. Can you tell?"

She smiled at the reflection, and said, "I'm beginning to see their value in a new light," as his cottony hands tended her goose pimpled skin.

Moving in front, he squatted, dried each leg and then commanded, "Spread them a little, please."

"You're so polite, for a plumber."

His fingers fluffed her curly hairs. “Call me, Mr. Good Pipewrench.”

She leaned over him and put her hands on the counter. A stream of air from his lips helped dry the tangled triangle. Sticking his nose in where it wouldn’t be long enough, he inhaled the fresh scent.

"Mmmm, you’re such a tease," she said, toying with the gray hair at his temple.

Sam stood up, and handed her the towel. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Accepting the challenge, Sherry turned him toward the mirror. Too short to see from the back, she stood off to the left and made one long stroke, starting at his shoulder, gliding over his chest, circling the nipple, and ending on his hip. Then, back at the top of the other shoulder, she repeated the motion.

"Who’s the tease now?” he said, trying to ignore the tremble he felt in her touch.

"Tit for tat," She said, and knelt to wipe each vertical leg, while ignoring the stumpy middle one.

He laughed. "I love it when you talk dirty. Tell me what a tat is, so I can trade it for your tit."

Suspending the towel between both hands, Sherry lifted until it supported his cock. She bounced it on the towel trampoline, and then began a seesaw motion to rub the terrycloth against the sensitive underside. "Isn't this a tat?" she asked, with a tremor in her voice. "Mmmm, looks good."

Her nervousness continued to make Sam uneasy. So he helped her up, pulled her tight, and kissed her. Breaking the connection, he said, "You're a funny apprentice. It’ll be great working with you. But I’m beginning to feel like a politician who’s exploiting an intern."

She looked confused, and asked, "Why?"

"You seem torn. Like part of you wants to do this, and part of you doesn’t." He ran his hands down to hold her waist. “It's a huge turn-on. I like replacing your fear with pleasure." He kissed her nose, and then spoke the words he knew might end this delicious moment. "But, is it fair? Am I taking advantage of you?"

She cupped his face in her hands, and said, "I told you, I'm a big girl, and I know what I want. I'm just going to repeat myself until you believe. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want y..."

Sam clamped a hand over her mouth. "All right, I believe you.” Then slipped the hand to her cheek, and asked, “Then why are you trembling?"

The laughing eyes darkened and looked down. She laid her head on his shoulder and traced a fingernail around his nipple. "I'm a little nervous." Absently, the pad of her index finger began a lazy assault on the sensitive tip. "I'm afraid I won't please you. It's been a long time and... I never was very good."

He pushed her chin so that her blues met his browns. "Sounds to me like you've been brainwashed into believing some false propaganda." Looking at her finger on his chest, he said, "Just the way you play sends lightening through me. So don't tell me you're not a good lover."

Bending quickly, Sam put his shoulder against her hips, and then lifted her over his shoulder.

She laughed, and said, "Sam, what are you doing? Put me down."

"No! I’m declaring an intervention." He carried her into the hall. "I'm going to deprogram all that bad-lover foolishness right out of your head." He swatted her bottom with his free hand. "So behave, and it will go easier for you!"

She stopped laughing long enough to drone in a monotone voice, "Yes Master,” then reached down and pinched his ass.

"Oww!" Sam swatted her again, and then soothingly rubbed the spot.

She whimpered, and said, “But it feels good to be bad.”

The bedroom door was already open. Sam strode in and dumped her on the mattress. Placing his hands on his naked hips, he surveyed the room.

Sherry lay there, looking him over.

He maintained a confident exterior, despite apprehension about how his pale physique appeared in broad daylight.

The room was neat and feminine, decorated in floral prints of mauves and greens. A small table next to an overstuffed chair sat by the window; books waited on the floor. There was an antique dresser, appointed with a jewelry box, and a vase filled with fresh cut roses. An air conditioner hummed its cooling breath. The decor, like the woman, had an elegant, uncomplicated beauty.

Aloud, he said. "This room’s perfect for deprogramming."

The rain had stopped, and the sun peeked out. A sunbeam fell across Sherry like a spotlight from heaven. "How long will this take? I have a Bad Lovers cult meeting at the Holiday Inn at three," she said, sitting up to give him the come-and-get-me finger curl.

He slid down beside her. "I predict this will be a long drawn out object lesson." Pushing her flat, he straddled her hips and pinned her wrists above her head. "And here is one of my favorite objects." Without further pretense, his lips gently closed around her left nipple. He wet it like a thread being prepared for the eye of a needle, and then blew on it to make it pointy.

"Mmmm." She arched, and shivered. “Please help me.”

“Begging won’t do any good. Deprogramming the Bad Lover complex always involves torture,” said Sam, as he transferred his lips to the right nipple to repeat the wet and blow procedure. “A sweet torture, sustained over long periods, to ingrain the pattern of positive coital stimulus.”

Sherry stretched under him, pushed against his weight.

“You must do exactly as I say.”

She began to struggle, and said, “I’ll try.”

“You will!” demanded Sam, gripping both her wrists in one hand and tickling her armpit with the other.

Sherry bucked and twisted under him, yelling, “Stop! Get off.”

Her thrashing became near hysterical, and Sam immediately rolled off.

Breathing heavy, she turned away.

Sam gently stroked her hair, and said, “Sherry, I’m so sorry. I won’t ever pin you down again.”

She was shaking.

He kissed her shoulder.

Rolling onto her back, she looked up at him with swimming eyes. “I’m such a mess. Are you sure you want me?”

“Yes, I’m very sure.”

She smiled, and whispered, “Don’t torture me anymore, okay?”

With new insight into how bad her life had been, his heart ached. “Okay,” he said, and protectively snuggled against her.

Clouds drifted over the sun. They lay silent for a few minutes.

Sherry placed a hand on his bottom, and petted.

Taking it as a sign of renewed interest, Sam languidly traced a finger up her stomach, between her breasts, and around her nipple. “Is teasing allowed?”

Her eyes closed and squeezed out two smiling tears. She said, “Teasing is required.”

His finger continued to trace a patient line up, until it brushed over her lips, feather soft. “How’s that feel?”

“Nice. It tickles,” she said, and rubbed them together.

“That’s all it takes to be a good lover.” The tip of his tongue drew a shiny circle around her areola, and he said, “You just tickle, and tease, until your partner begs you to scratch the itch. It’s a sweet torture with a satisfying payoff. Sex is about mutual pleasure. Whatever turns you on, will turn me on." Smiling, he added, "Unless you want to push a cucumber up my ass. That would not turn me on."

Laughing, she said, "You read my mind. How about a zucchini?"

"Uh-uh."

"Then, what about this?" She straddled him, wedged his penis between her labia, and rubbed along the shaft.

"That's... amazing," said Sam, enjoying the view almost as much as the friction. "But, much more of this will end my fun too soon."

Her hips stopped. "I don't want that."

Sam reached down and cupped her bottom. "Let me scratch your itch another way," he said, pulling, until her knees rested under his arms, and her pink sex spread open. He slid under. Their eyes met, as his tongue slipped in. Her eyes closed on contact.

The tang of her juice exploded on his taste buds, as he licked and flicked everything except her panic button. He gripped her hips to prevent being smothered in passion.

She whispered, “Sam, I’ve dreamed of this. But I never dreamed it would feel so good.” One delicate hand traced down to spread the petals for him.

He tongued her fingers.

As the telltale blush spread, Sherry’s free hand began to tease a breast.

"That looks so sexy." He massaged her bottom and licked a wide swathe up the slick valley.

"Mmmm," escaped in a long exhale. Her eyes remained closed, as her fingers began to awaken the nipples. Any trepidation evaporated with the rising heat.

Sam felt a slight rocking of her hips against his mouth. "You’re like honey to a starving bear." Two fingers slipped easily inside her, his lips grazed her clitoris.

"Oh, God!" Breasts now clenched in her fists, Sherry enjoyed her own roughness.

Sam pulled down a hand and used her fingers to rub the swollen clit. Releasing his grip, she continued, while he plunged two fingers into her.

"You're beautiful."

"Uhn, uhn." Her climax neared. She began to lose control.

"Who's a great lover, Sherry?"

"You are, Sam," escaped between gasps.

"Sorry, wrong answer." He grabbed her wrists.

"No! I'm so close. Don't stop now." She struggled to free her hands, but as the feeling faded she slumped over him.

Sam pushed her knees back until she lay flat on his chest, and waited for her heart rate to return to normal. "I'm sorry, Sherry. No reward until you accept the truth,” he said, and trailed his fingertips from her shoulders down her spine, circled each globe of her tush, and then repeated.

"Maybe I can't handle the truth," said Sherry, with closed eyes and a smile.

"Then, how about another hard truth for you to handle?" Sam placed her hand on his cock, wrapped her fingers around it, and lazily stroked. "Sherry, you're wonderful. No one is more exciting than you -- physically or mentally. I'm the luckiest man on earth."

"I bet you say that to all your lovers."

He smiled, and said, "Yes, I do,” and rolled them both, reversing positions. "One more time. Who's a great lover?"

"Um, Mel Gibson." She giggled.

"What!" Sam tickled and she wriggled.

"Stop it!" She laughed, and pushed his hands away.

"Who's a great lover?"

"I am! I give up! I give up!"

He wanted to tickle her more. The laughter wonderful ear candy, the sensation of her writhing body inflamed him. Instead, the tickling changed to caresses. Gentle fingers traced her ribs to her breasts. His mouth captured her lips, as his hands captured the high ground. Passion was now in control.

Sherry's hands ran down his back, over his ass, then slid under his hips. He lifted to ease her search. She positioned his cock at the warm entrance.

As he began to push between her folds, her hand stopped him, and she asked, "Who's a great lover?"

With his lips against the side of her throat, he murmured, "You are, Sherry."

"Sorry, wrong answer." And she moved his penis away from ground zero.

Sam groaned.

"No whining, you made the rules." She pushed him onto his back. "What goes around, comes around."

"I hate it when tit for tat bites you in the ass."

She smiled. "Okay, I'll cross ass biting off my to-do list." Leaning over him, she slowly pumped his cock. "So, the question remains: Who's a great lover?"

Sam winked, "Mel Gibson?"

Sherry laughed, and asked, "Are you bisexual? Do you fantasize about Mel?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to give you the answer you're looking for," he said, palming a breast, playfully bouncing the soft weight, while his thumb brushed over the nipple.

Grabbing his wrists, she pinned them over his head and then dangled a nipple over his lips. His tongue flicked out, but she stayed out of range. "Uh-uh, Sam, not until you give the right answer."

In a sullen, defeated tone, he softly answered, "All right, I'm a great lover."

"Good boy," she cooed, and lowered the nipple, then swayed side-to-side to brush the swollen bud across his lips. "Come on. Open up. Don't be difficult. Take your reward."

Like a fish taking the bait, he engulfed it.

The sensation made her back arch and her pelvis press against his stomach.

Sam easily lifted her weight, and, once again, they rolled over. No resistance now, as he lay between her legs. Her hand placed him in position. Resting on his elbows, he watched the sultry look in her eyes as he slipped in.

Sherry pulled his mouth to hers, and they wrapped each other tight. No more talk, only physical response to physical action. His hand slid between them. While he teased her clit, she reached down and let his shaft glide between her fingers. Sam slowly pulled out and pushed back.

She began a more urgent pump, as Sam pinched one nipple and sucked the other. "Sam, I'm close. Are you?"

He loved this moment at the edge of the orgasmic abyss. Her confession almost pulled him over with her. "Sherry, let it go. I want to watch you."

As if waiting for permission, her body tightened, and her pelvis ground against him.

He clung to her with his mouth and fingers, increasing the height of her fall. Guttural sounds marked the loss of all control. Her body arched and stiffened under and around him, and then a final screaming plunge into ecstasy.

He softened his touch, until Sherry pushed his hand away, and said breathlessly, "Enough".

Leaning on straight arms, Sam began a more assertive rhythm. At different angles, he pumped in and out, trying to make contact with her clitoris.

Their eyes met, and they exchanged smiles. She cupped his ass, and pulled on the in-stroke. "Oh, Baby. Your so big, so hard." Her eyes closed. "I think I'm going to cum again."

Sam answered with increased speed.

Her hands slid up his chest to play with his nipples, and rubbed down his abdomen to feel his penetrations. Her hips began to push back with the same need for completion.

The point of no return came suddenly, and exploded with the blinding pleasure he remembered. Pressing hard, wave after delicious wave pulsed into her. A sweet fulfillment swallowed him whole. Tears he couldn't control rolled down his cheeks. Embarrassed, he kissed her feverishly.

Sherry continued to pump, until an answering arch signaled another climax.