The House Ch. 02

Aaron stroked himself as he suckled from Minerva's nipple. It didn't feel quite real but real enough that he fully remembered how good a nipple in his mouth felt and, after almost one hundred and fifty years, hers felt like heaven. What pleased him even more was the knowledge that she felt it too and that he had contributed to her pleasure. Life at the house had just improved, he thought as he climaxed into his hand.

The next morning, Minerva woke up refreshed, the nipple sucking episode forgotten. She checked her cell phone and saw that Diana had called her several times already, starting at six. She groaned and called her back.

"Diana, its Minerva. Yes, Yes, I'm fine!" she said and grimaced.

"Yes, I bought a house and, no, I'm not moving back. Cynthia can help you with your bills, she's not moving out anytime soon. Diana...Diana! Shut up for a minute! I'm not moving back to New York ever, if I can help it. Of course you can visit, but listen to the word 'visit,' I want to live alone..."

The conversation went on for several minutes before Minerva became too frustrated to talk anymore. She would call Cynthia later to see how things were. She gathered up the toys and cleaned them before putting them away. She took a quick shower and dressed for a morning of grocery shopping and errands.

Aaron sat on the bed watching her as she woke up, his ears perking up when she talked on the phone to someone named Diana but her name was Minerva. Finally, he had a name to go with the body that he had helped to pleasure.

Minerva made a cup of coffee in the coffee maker and drank it black. It wasn't her preference but it had to do until she got supplies. She grabbed the box of canned goods on her way out and locked the door behind her.

Aaron inhaled the scent of the rich coffee. He couldn't remember the last time he had tasted real coffee; it had become a rare commodity during the war. He ended up giving it up after trying some of the substitutes such as chicory. Now it seemed that coffee was no longer rare.

Aaron went back to the master bedroom and lay on the bed; he would spend his nights here in bed with her from now on he decided. As he lay on the bed, he let his mind wander back to his previous life. He thought about the first time that he had ever been with a female.

He was sixteen years old at the time; his mother had been making a basket for the family that lived a couple of miles down the road. The husband had been quite ill and she was sending some homemade jam and bread.

"And don't dawdle; we have company coming for dinner tonight."

Aaron groaned; he hated these dinners with a passion. He was considered a young man and was no longer excused from the table with the younger children. The talk, of course, was about slavery, whether it was right or wrong. And at sixteen, he could have cared less.

He took the basket and headed to the home of the Walters. They weren't rich by any stretch of the imagination but they were good, hardworking people. His mother, Virginia often sent baskets of food to them and clothes that they had grown out of. On the plus side, they did have a daughter about his age whom Aaron considered quite pretty. He had heard rumors about her but didn't believe them, she just didn't seem the type to do the kinds of things that he had been told that she did.

"You mean that Belinda hasn't sucked you off yet?" his friend Burt asked. "It's a real treat! If she offers, you'd be a fool to say no," he added.

Aaron admitted to himself that the idea intrigued and aroused him, but he had no real reason to go to her house without it seeming improper. Thanks to his mother, he now had a reason. No one, other than himself, had ever touched his cock and he wanted to know what it felt like.

No one was outside when he pulled up to the small house.

"Hello!" he shouted, looking around. "Anybody home?"

"Quiet! My daddy's restin'," Belinda said as she came from around the back.

"Oh, sorry. My mother sent me over with a basket for you and your family," Aaron said as he hopped down from the wagon.

Belinda took the offered basket and looked around. "Mama went into town for some supplies, ain't no one here but me and daddy and he's sleepin'," she said slyly. "Want to see the new colt?"

Aaron recognized the invitation for what it was and followed Belinda into the barn after looking around. Belinda wasted no time in pushing her dress down and showing Aaron her bare breasts.

"You never saw titties before?" Belinda asked when she saw that he was staring at her open mouthed. "You wanna pop one in your mouth?"

Aaron could only nod his head at her but didn't move.

"Well get over here, times a wastin'," Belinda demanded as she held her breast out to him.

The moment that Aaron took one of her large, hard nipples into his mouth he was lost. Sucking on a woman's nipples would forever be one of his favorite parts of making love. He became even harder when Belinda began to moan as he sucked her nipples harder and flicked his tongue across the tip of one nipple and then the other. She took his hand and put it up her skirt and showed him, by example, what he was supposed to do.

Within minutes he had given his first female an orgasm but she wasn't finished. Still breathing hard, she struggled with his britches until his fully engorged cock was free and took him into her mouth. The pleasure was exquisite as she sucked and licked until he felt himself empty into her waiting mouth.

After that afternoon, he made sure to see Belinda as often as he could. The only problem was that Belinda came to believe that he was in love with her. Soon after that, he stopped going to see her. A month after that, her father died and her mother took the children, Belinda included, and moved away.

Aaron felt badly that Belinda had thought that he could and would love her but it taught him a valuable lesson. From that point forward, he made sure that his partners understood that it was only sex. It didn't always work but he tried.

Aaron got up from the bed and decided to see what else he could do, he started with something simple. He saw a Kleenex on the floor and tried to pick it up. It took him several minutes but he was able to grasp it between his fingers and lift it. He marveled at the feel of the thin material between his fingers, it meant that he would be able to feel Minerva when he touched her. Whether it would feel any more real to him than her nipple in his mouth had felt, he didn't know but this was enough.

Minerva got back home a few hours later, the cart loaded down with groceries. On her way to the store, she had stopped by an antique store. She wanted something old in the house to counter the feeling of newness; she'd walked around the small shop, not knowing what it was that she was looking for. She had stopped at a wall that had several pictures hanging from it. One of the pictures had been of a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a killer smile, complete with dimples. In the picture, he was standing next to a petite woman who would have been pretty if she had smiled and was about twenty pounds heavier. Minerva had looked at the price tag and started to walk away when a woman had spoken to her.

"Handsome, isn't he?"

Minerva turned to face the speaker. "Very, who are they?" she asked.

"That is Aaron Richards and his second wife, Clara. His first wife, Martha died after they had been married for a few years; it was said that she wasn't the healthiest of women to begin with. After her, he was single for several years before he married his second wife, Clara. That would have been just before the War Between the States. That marriage ended when the war started and he volunteered. The word was that, as soon as he was gone, Clara went back home and had an illicit affair with the man that she was really in love with. The man, Oliver Norton, was deemed too poor by her father and therefore unworthy, so he forced Clara to marry Aaron. The thing was, Clara's father himself was one of the new rich and really had no cause to look down on poor Oliver. Anyway, as the story goes, Oliver became quite wealthy during the war by profiteering. He took care of Clara—acted like her husband, if you know what I mean, and hoped that Aaron wouldn't make it back alive. He did make it back, only to die in the house with only his cook and her husband to care for him."

"What happened to him?" Minerva asked.

"He was on his way home after disbanding his remaining troops. As he traveled back, he spread the word of the surrender, wanting the needless killing to stop. But, at any rate, he was less than ten miles from home when he was shot. By who, no one knows. There is some speculation that Clara got word of his return and put Oliver up to shooting him, but most believe that he got shot by a lone Yankee who didn't know the war was over," the woman said. "Personally, I think Clara was behind it," she added.

Minerva looked at the picture and debated on whether she really wanted to spend fifty dollars for it.

The woman saw Minerva's interest in the picture and made her an offer. "Tell you what, that picture has been hanging there for months, I'll sell it to you for twenty-five percent off."

Minerva did the calculations in her head. "Deal," she said as she pulled out her wallet.

She took the wrapped photograph to the car and continued on to the grocery store. Now she was home, faced with the task of unloading the car and figuring out where she wanted to put things.

Aaron stood by watching, wishing that he could help her somehow. As she carried the bags in, he peeked inside, amazed at the variety of foods that were available.

Finally, the last bag was in and Minerva was about to kick off her shoes when she remembered the photograph. She ran back out to the car, grabbed the photo and ran back in.

Aaron saw the wrapped package and wondered what it was. He quickly dismissed it when he saw Minerva head up the stairs. Whatever she was going to do, he didn't want to miss it.

He was disappointed to see that she was only changing her clothes and followed her back downstairs to watch her put her purchases away. Like the night before, Minerva heated one of the frozen gourmet dinners and sat on the porch to eat it, along with a glass of iced tea. Aaron sat beside her and watched her eat; he noticed how she picked over the food, pushing items that she didn't like to the side.

She finished her dinner but didn't sit outside for as long as she had the previous night. Like the night before, she rinsed off her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Aaron wondered when she was going to turn the contraption on, he wanted to see how it worked and she had yet to use the big machines, in what used to be the outer kitchen as the previous owners had had it attached to the house.

After loading the dishwasher, Minerva picked up the wrapped photograph and went to the living room. She sat on the sofa and ripped the paper away. Aaron stood behind her, curious to see what was inside. When he saw the photograph, he was filled with a cold rage.

Minerva sat the picture on the end table and went up to bed, several of her favorite television shows would be on tonight and she planned to watch them, lounging in bed.

Aaron stayed in the living room instead of following her. He stared at the picture of Clara with a hatred that he thought he'd forgotten. With a swipe of his hand, the picture turned so that it was face down.