The Cat’s Out Of The Bag:
While all my kerfuffle was going on, Jimmy and Rosie were happily falling harder for each other. As a favour to Davey and I, Sybil had given Jimmy his own room in the house, and while I don’t think he abused his guest privileges by sneaking into Rosie’s private apartment after dark, he respected Sybil far too much, but the fact remains, something hot, hard, and heavy was going on there; Rosie went around with that secret little smile, Jimmy looked permanently dazed and sandbagged, and I had enough spare room in my head to wonder when they were going to tell us all what we already knew.
I was all for having a little private chat with Rosie, but Davey absolutely balked at that; his exact words were “mind your own business, and let her mind hers; when Rosie wants you to know something, she’ll tell you, so just drop it, please?”
Of course I did, but I had eyes, and I could see there was something up, so I sort-of-worked-out something with Davey that meant we’d all get what we wanted. When I told Aunt Sybil that it was time for us to go, she understood; much as I loved living with her, in her home, I needed my own home even more. Davey says it’s the nesting instinct; maybe so, but I still felt we should leave before we outstayed our welcome. David and my gift to Rosie and Jimmy (which had nothing to do with the fact she was my Maid of Honor, and everything to do with the fact she was the closest thing he had to a sister, and yes, I know…) was our way of giving them what we had; I could see Jimmy casting around, looking for a way to ask Rosie to marry him, and having a good job and a home they could forever call their own would seal that deal that for him, and keep them near us, the thing I wanted most in the world.
When Rosie hugged us, I clearly heard Davey murmur “Love you, Maid Marian, be happy!”
Rosie whispered back “I’m not your Maid Marian any more, David; lucky you, you’re marrying your real Maid Marian! But look, I have a Little John all of my own now!”
*
Moving into my new home was a strange, emotional experience; Sophie had hired movers to collect all the things we’d shipped over from Bar Harbor from the storage unit in Banbury and she and I had spent a couple days arranging the furniture; everything, every little piece of furniture or trinket reminded me sharply of mom and daddy, even in their new setting, but I’d resisted the urge to arrange the furniture as it had been in Mom’s house: new house new layout, no old ghosts.
Of course, I could have just dumped most of that stuff, but there was too much of Mom and Daddy in those worn, comfortable pieces; Davey and I both had vivid memories of sitting on Mom’s lap in her big old green La-Z-Boy recliner and watching TV, Davey watching endless afternoon reruns of ‘Champion, The Wonder Horse’ and ‘Casey Jones’, and Mom singing along with me to ‘Sesame Street’ and ‘The Elephant Show’, and ‘Mr. Rogers’, and listening to Mom while she read Curious George, Paddington, Pooh, Alice, Snow White to us; tossing that chair out would have ripped a hole in my memories that nothing would ever heal, so it stayed. One day, I was going to read to my babies in that chair, that was what it was for.
*
David & Lori: an ‘Interlude’
The first night Davey and I slept in our new home, I wanted him to be inspired to try as many things as possible; as he put it when we first took possession of the house:
“You know something, Angel? There’s an old custom, it might even be a legal obligation, that the new homeowner christen every room in the house; we have to put our mark on this place, just so we know down inside that we’re home, and so the house knows who we are. So, when we’ve moved in properly, you game for some games?”
Silly question, really; Davey’s kind of ‘christening’ always makes my eyes bug-out, so yeah, I was game, and I made sure our first night in our new home was everything his dirty little mind could dream about!
That first night, the house was still kind of sparsely furnished, but I’d had the movers drag Mom’s big old couch into what would be the family room, and then I dressed it with sheets, pillows, throws, and comforters, closed the shutters to block the evening sun, and turned off the main lights, so the only illumination was the golden light from a couple of table lamps, giving that enormous room a soft, intimate glow, and I waited, a little impatiently, in my bathrobe, with my hair pinned-up, and Yardley ‘English Rose’ spritzed strategically on me, just to add that alluring (I hoped!) touch.
When he’d come in, Davey had given me that quizzical, adorable, ‘half-squint-half-raised-eyebrow’ thing he does when he’s puzzled, but his eyes lit up when I shook out my hair, undid the belt on my heavy bathrobe, and it slide to the floor, leaving me stark naked for his delectation.
“Darling Girl, every time I see you I fancy you more!” he breathed and I knew he wasn’t lying, not if that bulge in his pants was any indicator! I think he got that I wanted to play a little. We’d been too dead serious for too, too long, and the bedrock of our relationship has always been the fun and clowning around we do with each other. I wanted to regain some of that; everything had just been too real lately; Des Moines, Bar Harbor, Boston, they all seemed a long, impossible way away, and a whole geological age ago, and it was time for David and Lori to play again, to recapture some of that. Fuck reality; we had plenty of time for that later!
Davey started stripping off, but I stopped him; I was his wife, I wanted to play, this was MY game, so I was gonna unwrap him. He grinned when I batted his hands out of the way and loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt (well, started to unbutton his shirt; after three buttons I gave up and just yanked it over his head, stupid fucking men’s shirt buttons, why are they so small and fiddly, AND on the wrong fucking side…?), and pulled him closer by the waistband of his pants so I could tease him with little nibble-kisses, just pecking at his lips, and ducking back when he tried to take them further, while I unlaced his belt and undid his pants.
Of course, Davey being Davey, his hands were busy too; just as I slid his zipper down, his hands clamped around my butt and pulled me right up against him, jamming his tented cock hard against my pussy while his fingertip stroked my little hole, making me gasp.
“So you want to play hard to get, do you, you minxy little sexpot?” he grinned, squeezing my butt-cheeks and pulling them apart as he rubbed his boner against my slit. That was about the time lights, bells, and whistles went off in my head, but I manfully (womanfully?) pushed him away and tugged his hands off my butt (a little regretfully, to be sure, but just who was supposed to be seducing who here, anyway?)
Davey toed his shoes off while I tugged his pants down, made him step out of them, and threw them dramatically across the room, and when he finally pulled his socks off (because there’s nothing sillier and less alluring than a naked man with a thundering erection standing in his sock feet…) I had him just where I wanted him; naked, torqued-up, hot and bothered, and ready to play!
I think Davey was feeling some of what I’d had fizzing inside me all day, because before I knew it, our lips were locked together, and our hands and fingers fondling, squeezing, touching, and stroking.
“What does Milady desire?” he breathed when I finally managed to wrench my lips off his and draw a shuddering breath; Davey kissing me has all kinds of deep-down side effects on me, and I wanted a clear head, because what was coming next was going to put my mind in orbit. In answer to his question, I slid to my knees, watching his eyes light up and his dirty little mind go into overdrive.
As I kissed and gently licked his velvety-soft erection, with that steely core just under the smooth skin, once more my head was filled with the scent of him, even stronger and more potent now, the scent complexes he was giving off firing-up my brain and causing all kinds of things, wild fantasies and deep-down desires to surface; Davey once told me I smelled like Christmas to him, but I had no words to describe how he smelled to me; shower soap and cologne, but under all that, the fresh, clean-skin smell of healthy young male, and the salty, ozone tang of the clear liquid seeping from the end of his cock.
As I sucked and rolled my tongue around the end of his pulsating cock, he hissed softly, obviously enjoying the feeling, so I sucked some more; Davey is a very tactile person, he likes touching and being touched, and the tensing of his muscles and tendons told me how much he was liking what I was doing to him.
We kept on in this vein for a few more minutes, but he obviously had other things on his mind, because at some point he pulled away from me and took my hand, raising me to my feet.
“Your turn, Angel-May!” he grinned, walking me backwards toward the couch and that big soft pile of cushions and comforters. I lay down on my back so he could continue kissing me, his lips playing over my body in an endless rain of kisses, first my neck, then my shoulders, a quick, soft flick of my nipples with his tongue-tip, sending electric shivers through me, then down to my belly, finally swirling his tongue in my navel, something he loves doing. I grinned as he kissed and lapped even further, heading south to his ultimate target.