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Charity Begins Next Door: Part 2
Can Two Broken people make something whole, again?
In 2 parts, Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Neighborhood Party
Cathy & John were holding a Christmas Eve open-house
next door; and expecting half of the neighborhood over that evening. They were
a high standard in generosity, for the rest of us neighbors to try to emulate.
I made my appearance, around 8:30
, and stoically accepted the offered condolences which were definitely putting
me in the wrong state of mind. After only half-an-hour I knew I had to get out
of there, even if it did piss off Cathy.
John seemed to catch my mood, and dragged me outdoors to
enjoy a cigar in semi-peace. With a heavily spiked eggnog in hand, and a more
than decent Rocky Patel Decade burning nicely, I was willing to stick it out a
little longer when he headed back indoors.
“I should skin you alive for that little stunt, you know.”
I heard a voice coming from poolside, and headed that way to
face the music. Sandy was sitting there alone, a large, mostly empty glass of
wine at her side.
“I know. I was bad. But I’m done now.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped.
“I just wanted Erica to have a decent Christmas, and wanted
to help you out a little in your effort to sell your house.”
She cackled, and it wasn’t a pretty sound. “You too? You
just barely met me and you’re so damn eager to get me out of the neighborhood.”
Her words surprised me. “Not at all. I’m just trying to
fight back a bit against the unfairness of the world. What are you doing out
here alone, anyway?”
“I can’t stand the way they look at me. Like suicide is
contagious or something. They don’t know what to say; they all avoid me, or
look at me like I was a leper or something.”
“People can be assholes.”
She smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”
I sat beside her and drank my 80 proof eggnog in silence. We
watched a small group come out and start talking while they lit up their cancer
sticks.
“I know you mean well, Alex. But you can stop now, Ok?” she
said softly.
“One last thing.”
“Please. Enough already.”
“Steve called. Everything’s cleared up with the insurance.
You’ll get your check next week.”
She looked at me like I’d grown a third eye, completely
stunned. “Really?”
“Really.”
She finished her wine, gulping it down, then sat back.
“Shit. Six fucking months they drag it out and then suddenly, like that,” she
snapped her fingers, “they’re willing to pay up?”
“Steve’s good.”
She leaned forward and held her head in her hands. After a
few seconds I could see her body was shaking. She was crying, silently.
“I’m sorry it took so long. If I’d been a better neighbor,
we might have taken care of this months ago.”
She sat up abruptly, and I could see the streak of the tears
on her face. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. Just don’t, Ok?”
“Ok.”
I sat awkwardly, while she wiped her eyes and turned away
from me, staring out at the backyard. I leaned over and took her empty glass.
“Can I get you a refill?”
“Yeah. I mean, yes, please. Thanks.”
“Be right back.”
It took a few minutes to navigate the crowd around the bar,
and to endure the late arrivals expressing their sorrow over my “loss”. Like
they know anything about loss. Shit. I was happy to get back outside, away from
the doe-eyed suburban mommy’s pity and their awkward mumbling husbands.
I plopped down next to Sandy. “Jesus. Next time you can make
the booze run.” I told her passing the wine glass over.
She gave me a twisted smile. “You volunteered, remember?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“That’s what you get for being a Good Samaritan.”
“That’s it for me. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”
She chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
My cigar had gone out, and it would have been a shame to
waste it. I ventured into the smoker arena long enough for a light, and
immediately regretted it, catching the sidelong glances they gave each other,
knowing what they were thinking. I didn’t spend a moment there longer then I
had to, hustling back to my solitude and Sandy. The only kindred soul at this
soirée who might feel a tenth of the loss I that was consuming me.
There was one last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t know
how she’d take it. I thought that maybe, just maybe, with one more glass of
wine under her belt, she might acquiesce.
“Sandy?”
“Hmm. I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Are you up
to something again?”
“No. Maybe. Not really. I mean, well, can I show you
something next door?”
She gave me an odd look, which lasted quite a long time.
“Can I bring my wine?”
“Of course. It’ll only take a minute.”
She stood, and followed me out the gate. We walked around
the fence to my driveway and into my backyard. As we crossed my patio she piped
up.
“Just because I’ve had a few drinks, and just because you
did something nice doesn’t mean you’re going to get anywhere with me, I hope
you know.”
Her words slammed into me like a bucket of cold water. I
hadn’t even thought about anything like that. I turned and looked at her. She
didn’t look bad. Not at all. She cleaned up nicely, and even if she was
ridiculously skinny, I could see she was an attractive woman. Funny that I’d
never even noticed. I stood there trying to think of how to reply.
“Jesus, Alex. I’m just teasing you.”
It took me a few seconds to reply. “That was the furthest
thing from my mind.”
“Of course. Believe me. I understand.” Her sardonic reply
was more surprising than the original tease.
Caught without a response, I entered the house and led her
to the living room.
“What did you want to show me?”
I turned on the light in the living room, and moved out of
the way.
“Holy crap!”
I gestured toward the piles of gifts. “They were for my
girls. I don’t know what to do with them.”
“That’s all for your girls?” she asked, looking on in
wonder.
“Yeah. I kind of over do it.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’d like Erica to have them. She doesn’t have to know
they’re from me. They can all be from Santa if you’d like. If you don’t take
them, I… I don’t know what I’ll do with them.”
“It’s too much, Alex. It’s a nice gesture, really. But it’s
too much.”
“Please. No strings. Do it for Erica.”
She stood silent for a while, before she turned to me. “Why?
Why now?”
“I don’t know. Look, they’re just sitting there. I’ll end up
donating them to some charity or something. I’ve got a ton of gifts, and nobody
left to give them too. You’ve got a sweet little girl who has one present under
the tree and could use a bit of joy in her life.”
She wandered around the room, nudging the gifts with her
foot, not answering, taking the occasional sip from her glass. She eventually
wandered back and stood beside me.
She stood quietly for several seconds, apparently pondering
a reply. “It’s not fair,” she finally muttered.
That wasn’t what I’d expected. “No shit. Life’s about as
unfair as I could ever imagine,” I answered honestly. “Good people get hurt for
no apparent reason. Jack-offs seem to glide along easily without a care in the
world. Innocent little girls have their lives cut short meaninglessly.
Good-hearted neighbors have their lives crapped on as if it was some big cosmic
joke.” I could hear my own voice getting louder and more frustrated. “Life’s a
fucking kick in the ass, and every time it looks like something nice might come
out of it, some cosmic comedian pulls the rug out from under you. What kind of
God destroys a family for no good reason? Huh? Answer me that!” I was almost
shouting by the end of my tirade.
“I…I think I need to go home now.” She turned and started
walking away.
I chased after her, “Please, can you take just a few?
Please. It’s killing me to see them here.”
She stumbled a bit, then paused. Without turning she said,
“Bring over what you want around midnight.” Then she slipped out the back door.
I took a few minutes to compose myself after she left. I’d
made a complete ass of myself. Oh well. About par for the course. I decided to
make another short appearance at Cathy’s to at least say my goodnights. My nosy
neighbor caught me the moment I made it in the door. “John told me you were
around, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I ran into Sandy, and we broken people sort of hid out in
your backyard.”
She looked at me quizzically. “I was kind of surprised she
came over. She didn’t say a word about what we did this afternoon.”
“Lucky you. I’ve still got the scars,” I teased. Then I told
her a little about our discussion, including the insurance situation and the
deal with the gifts.
“Thank God. Maybe she can finally stop working 16 hours a
day, and spend some time with her daughter. That’ll be nice. I was wondering
what you were going to do with all those gifts. I was afraid you were going to
make a memorial out of them, leaving them there year after year, until the dust
was an inch thick over them.”
Her words stung a bit. “I’m not that bad.”
“No, you’re not. Although you had me worried there for a
bit. It’s just a hard thing to take. I understand that.”
“I guess it’s not a problem now.”
She smiled. “I guess not. Erica’s a lucky little girl.”
"I don't know if I'd say that, but at least she might
have a nice Christmas."
"I'm glad you came over tonight. A lot of our friends
were worried for you. Your appearance was a nice Christmas gift for them as
well."
"I can't say I really care too much. I know it sounds
harsh, but how they feel isn't really high up there on my list of priorities at
the moment."
"That's Ok. It's still nice that you came."
"I appreciate your inviting me. And for being the
nagging neighborly meddlesome busybody you've been for the last couple of
weeks."
She laughed. "That's the nicest thing anybody's said to
me in a while, and in the nastiest way. I guess you are feeling a little
better."
I sighed. "A little. Although I doubt Christmas will
ever be the same for me again."
She moved in and gave me a hug. "It'll never be the
same. But it may still, someday, be Ok."
I hugged her back, quietly. I doubted it.
Back home, I dressed down to sweats and a t-shirt, torturing
myself a little by watching The Little Drummer Boy, Briana's favorite. Life was
so fucking unfair. My girls were gone. It was Christmas and I was alone. I'd
never, ever, spend another Christmas with Briana and Allora. Never.
An hour later I was at Sandy's back door with three huge
garbage bags full of gifts. It had taken me two trips. I knocked softly and a
few moments later Sandy let me in. She'd gotten rid of her party clothes as
well, answering the door in a plain robe. She looked tired. I guessed that
she'd been waiting up for me.
"Erica?" I asked softly.
"Asleep," she confirmed, taking one of the bags
from me.
Quietly we headed to her front room and started spreading
out the gifts. On each one, I removed the existing tag and she put a new
sticker 'from Santa' on it. She asked me what was in each, but I couldn't
remember all of them. Still, I was able to fill her in on the majority. She
must have had some plan in mind, because she organized them according to my
descriptions of their probable contents, separating them in neat little piles.
After about 15 minutes I looked over and saw her shaking her head.
"What?"
"It's too much."
"That's what my ex said every year. I never got a
complaint from the girls."
She gave me a wry smile. "At least one of us is going
to have a pretty spectacular Christmas."
"Isn't that how it should be?"
I saw her nod, and noticed that her eyes were glistening
again. I decided to leave it alone.
Until those moments, I really hadn't seen Sandy as a woman.
I'd related to her as a person in need. But between her dressing up at the
party, her comments on my patio, and the way she was dressed in just a robe,
I'm almost ashamed to say I was scoping her out.
She was rail thin, with short dark brown hair, almost black.
She wasn't very large on top, but when she was moving around on her hands and
knees, arranging presents, I got a few glimpses inside the top of her robe, and
saw the swelling of very feminine breasts. Her legs were as thin as the rest of
her, but with decent calf definition. Some of her movements were less than
ladylike, and I saw myself peeking up the bottom of her robe, looking at her
pale inner thighs, or glancing at her round rear giving form to her robe.
Her face was cute. Small turned up nose, narrow mouth with
bowed upper lip, and natural eyebrows fuller than was popular, above big brown
eyes. Those eyes were extremely expressive, and somewhat mesmerizing.
I found myself looking at her too often, and she eventually
caught me at it.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," I answered quickly. Trying to cover
myself I explained. "You just look happier than I've seen you until
now."
One corner of her mouth turned up. "I guess for once
you're seeing me when I'm not completely pissed-off at you."
We finished with the gifts and I carefully stood up and
gingerly stepped around the pretty wrapped up presents. I turned and held my
hand out to Sandy while she did her best to maneuver around them without
stepping on any. She almost made it before stumbling at the last minute,
kicking a pile over and falling toward me. I caught her and held her up,
pulling her backward with me until the wall halted my retreat.
She stared up at me, my arms still wrapped under hers,
holding her closer than I intended. Her hair smelled like strawberries.
"I should be furious with you," she said, leaning
into me.
"I know."
I pulled her upright, but she clung to me, pressing against
me.
"We don't need anybody." She sounded angry again.
I shrugged, hard to do while holding a fragile woman in my
arms. "I don't have anybody."
Her look softened. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'll be Ok." I closed my eyes, and
thought once more of my kids. I could feel myself on the verge of losing it
again.
Without warning her lips were on mine, gentle at first. Then
I felt her fingers dig into my skin, and she was kissing me fiercely, her teeth
pressed hard against my lips. I pulled her tightly against my body, opening my
mouth to hers, returning her ardor.
It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She was
clutching at me, kissing me, hugging me, hitting me, scratching me, while I
stood there holding her, absorbing it all. I waited for her to calm down, and
when she didn't I reached down and lifted her by the ass, holding her tight,
while her legs encircled me. She bit my lip hard, and I could taste blood,
while her claws sank into my shoulders.
I could feel the anger and frustration in her, the desire to
strike out somehow at the unfairness of it all. I echoed those feelings,
accepting them, expanding them, and returning them in kind. Yes, I was angry
too. Furious. The taste of my own blood on my lips just served to fuel the
fire.
Like everything else, having her vent her anger on me, while
I was the only one in the world trying to help her was patently unfair. I was
hurting too. I had lost so much more. So very much more. I was tired of being
treated like dirt.
Holding her by the rear in one hand, I grasped her hair from
behind, pulling her hair back making her gasp. I lowered my mouth to her
slender neck and bit her, sucking on her flesh. Both of her hands went to my
head, entangling in my hair, and pulling my face down against her. Her hips
ground against me, while her bare feet beat a tattoo against my back.
Sandy pulled my head back by the hair, and I loosened my
grip on hers. She stared into my eyes, hers flashing with pent up emotions.
"Damn you!" she gasped. She leaned in and pressed
her lips against mine again, still fierce and unrelenting.
I turned and pressed her against the wall, trapping her
there with my body. My hand lowered and slid into her robe, meeting nothing but
bare flesh. I grabbed her breast and squeezed, causing her to moan into my
mouth. Her hands weren't idle and she was pushing the top of my sweats down,
using her feet to push them down in the back. She squeezed a hand between us,
her other wrapped around my shoulders, and I felt her fingers wrap around my
hardness. It was hard to believe how I was responding to her and her tantrum,
but there was no doubt.
I took over, pushing my sweats down, letting them slide down
to my ankles, drawing my boxers with them. I was naked from the waist down and
exposed. Our lips had never separated, and she sucked hungrily on my tongue,
while I tore open her robe, roughly. Like me, she was naked underneath, except
for a pair of loose shorts. She had my cock in her hand, and aimed it at her
moist opening, pushing the leg of her shorts aside. I lowered her, easing into her,
until I was fully sheathed.
She groaned. Her hand now free, she grabbed me by the hair
and tugged back, drawing her lips away. "You bastard," she gasped.
"Bitch," I growled. I pulled my hips back and
thrust into her hard, pushing her into the wall, eliciting another gasp. I felt
my own anger welling up inside of me. I knew I wasn't really angry at her, but
she was the unintended victim of my fury. I slammed my cock into her hard,
grinding against her. Pulling back, I did it again, even harder, doing my best
to push her right through the wall. She gasped as if I'd struck her.
"That's right, fuck me," she whispered harshly.
"Go ahead, fuck m
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By [email protected]
4
88 ratings
Can Two Broken people make something whole, again?
In 2 parts, Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Neighborhood Party
Cathy & John were holding a Christmas Eve open-house
next door; and expecting half of the neighborhood over that evening. They were
a high standard in generosity, for the rest of us neighbors to try to emulate.
I made my appearance, around 8:30
, and stoically accepted the offered condolences which were definitely putting
me in the wrong state of mind. After only half-an-hour I knew I had to get out
of there, even if it did piss off Cathy.
John seemed to catch my mood, and dragged me outdoors to
enjoy a cigar in semi-peace. With a heavily spiked eggnog in hand, and a more
than decent Rocky Patel Decade burning nicely, I was willing to stick it out a
little longer when he headed back indoors.
“I should skin you alive for that little stunt, you know.”
I heard a voice coming from poolside, and headed that way to
face the music. Sandy was sitting there alone, a large, mostly empty glass of
wine at her side.
“I know. I was bad. But I’m done now.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped.
“I just wanted Erica to have a decent Christmas, and wanted
to help you out a little in your effort to sell your house.”
She cackled, and it wasn’t a pretty sound. “You too? You
just barely met me and you’re so damn eager to get me out of the neighborhood.”
Her words surprised me. “Not at all. I’m just trying to
fight back a bit against the unfairness of the world. What are you doing out
here alone, anyway?”
“I can’t stand the way they look at me. Like suicide is
contagious or something. They don’t know what to say; they all avoid me, or
look at me like I was a leper or something.”
“People can be assholes.”
She smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”
I sat beside her and drank my 80 proof eggnog in silence. We
watched a small group come out and start talking while they lit up their cancer
sticks.
“I know you mean well, Alex. But you can stop now, Ok?” she
said softly.
“One last thing.”
“Please. Enough already.”
“Steve called. Everything’s cleared up with the insurance.
You’ll get your check next week.”
She looked at me like I’d grown a third eye, completely
stunned. “Really?”
“Really.”
She finished her wine, gulping it down, then sat back.
“Shit. Six fucking months they drag it out and then suddenly, like that,” she
snapped her fingers, “they’re willing to pay up?”
“Steve’s good.”
She leaned forward and held her head in her hands. After a
few seconds I could see her body was shaking. She was crying, silently.
“I’m sorry it took so long. If I’d been a better neighbor,
we might have taken care of this months ago.”
She sat up abruptly, and I could see the streak of the tears
on her face. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. Just don’t, Ok?”
“Ok.”
I sat awkwardly, while she wiped her eyes and turned away
from me, staring out at the backyard. I leaned over and took her empty glass.
“Can I get you a refill?”
“Yeah. I mean, yes, please. Thanks.”
“Be right back.”
It took a few minutes to navigate the crowd around the bar,
and to endure the late arrivals expressing their sorrow over my “loss”. Like
they know anything about loss. Shit. I was happy to get back outside, away from
the doe-eyed suburban mommy’s pity and their awkward mumbling husbands.
I plopped down next to Sandy. “Jesus. Next time you can make
the booze run.” I told her passing the wine glass over.
She gave me a twisted smile. “You volunteered, remember?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“That’s what you get for being a Good Samaritan.”
“That’s it for me. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”
She chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
My cigar had gone out, and it would have been a shame to
waste it. I ventured into the smoker arena long enough for a light, and
immediately regretted it, catching the sidelong glances they gave each other,
knowing what they were thinking. I didn’t spend a moment there longer then I
had to, hustling back to my solitude and Sandy. The only kindred soul at this
soirée who might feel a tenth of the loss I that was consuming me.
There was one last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t know
how she’d take it. I thought that maybe, just maybe, with one more glass of
wine under her belt, she might acquiesce.
“Sandy?”
“Hmm. I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Are you up
to something again?”
“No. Maybe. Not really. I mean, well, can I show you
something next door?”
She gave me an odd look, which lasted quite a long time.
“Can I bring my wine?”
“Of course. It’ll only take a minute.”
She stood, and followed me out the gate. We walked around
the fence to my driveway and into my backyard. As we crossed my patio she piped
up.
“Just because I’ve had a few drinks, and just because you
did something nice doesn’t mean you’re going to get anywhere with me, I hope
you know.”
Her words slammed into me like a bucket of cold water. I
hadn’t even thought about anything like that. I turned and looked at her. She
didn’t look bad. Not at all. She cleaned up nicely, and even if she was
ridiculously skinny, I could see she was an attractive woman. Funny that I’d
never even noticed. I stood there trying to think of how to reply.
“Jesus, Alex. I’m just teasing you.”
It took me a few seconds to reply. “That was the furthest
thing from my mind.”
“Of course. Believe me. I understand.” Her sardonic reply
was more surprising than the original tease.
Caught without a response, I entered the house and led her
to the living room.
“What did you want to show me?”
I turned on the light in the living room, and moved out of
the way.
“Holy crap!”
I gestured toward the piles of gifts. “They were for my
girls. I don’t know what to do with them.”
“That’s all for your girls?” she asked, looking on in
wonder.
“Yeah. I kind of over do it.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’d like Erica to have them. She doesn’t have to know
they’re from me. They can all be from Santa if you’d like. If you don’t take
them, I… I don’t know what I’ll do with them.”
“It’s too much, Alex. It’s a nice gesture, really. But it’s
too much.”
“Please. No strings. Do it for Erica.”
She stood silent for a while, before she turned to me. “Why?
Why now?”
“I don’t know. Look, they’re just sitting there. I’ll end up
donating them to some charity or something. I’ve got a ton of gifts, and nobody
left to give them too. You’ve got a sweet little girl who has one present under
the tree and could use a bit of joy in her life.”
She wandered around the room, nudging the gifts with her
foot, not answering, taking the occasional sip from her glass. She eventually
wandered back and stood beside me.
She stood quietly for several seconds, apparently pondering
a reply. “It’s not fair,” she finally muttered.
That wasn’t what I’d expected. “No shit. Life’s about as
unfair as I could ever imagine,” I answered honestly. “Good people get hurt for
no apparent reason. Jack-offs seem to glide along easily without a care in the
world. Innocent little girls have their lives cut short meaninglessly.
Good-hearted neighbors have their lives crapped on as if it was some big cosmic
joke.” I could hear my own voice getting louder and more frustrated. “Life’s a
fucking kick in the ass, and every time it looks like something nice might come
out of it, some cosmic comedian pulls the rug out from under you. What kind of
God destroys a family for no good reason? Huh? Answer me that!” I was almost
shouting by the end of my tirade.
“I…I think I need to go home now.” She turned and started
walking away.
I chased after her, “Please, can you take just a few?
Please. It’s killing me to see them here.”
She stumbled a bit, then paused. Without turning she said,
“Bring over what you want around midnight.” Then she slipped out the back door.
I took a few minutes to compose myself after she left. I’d
made a complete ass of myself. Oh well. About par for the course. I decided to
make another short appearance at Cathy’s to at least say my goodnights. My nosy
neighbor caught me the moment I made it in the door. “John told me you were
around, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I ran into Sandy, and we broken people sort of hid out in
your backyard.”
She looked at me quizzically. “I was kind of surprised she
came over. She didn’t say a word about what we did this afternoon.”
“Lucky you. I’ve still got the scars,” I teased. Then I told
her a little about our discussion, including the insurance situation and the
deal with the gifts.
“Thank God. Maybe she can finally stop working 16 hours a
day, and spend some time with her daughter. That’ll be nice. I was wondering
what you were going to do with all those gifts. I was afraid you were going to
make a memorial out of them, leaving them there year after year, until the dust
was an inch thick over them.”
Her words stung a bit. “I’m not that bad.”
“No, you’re not. Although you had me worried there for a
bit. It’s just a hard thing to take. I understand that.”
“I guess it’s not a problem now.”
She smiled. “I guess not. Erica’s a lucky little girl.”
"I don't know if I'd say that, but at least she might
have a nice Christmas."
"I'm glad you came over tonight. A lot of our friends
were worried for you. Your appearance was a nice Christmas gift for them as
well."
"I can't say I really care too much. I know it sounds
harsh, but how they feel isn't really high up there on my list of priorities at
the moment."
"That's Ok. It's still nice that you came."
"I appreciate your inviting me. And for being the
nagging neighborly meddlesome busybody you've been for the last couple of
weeks."
She laughed. "That's the nicest thing anybody's said to
me in a while, and in the nastiest way. I guess you are feeling a little
better."
I sighed. "A little. Although I doubt Christmas will
ever be the same for me again."
She moved in and gave me a hug. "It'll never be the
same. But it may still, someday, be Ok."
I hugged her back, quietly. I doubted it.
Back home, I dressed down to sweats and a t-shirt, torturing
myself a little by watching The Little Drummer Boy, Briana's favorite. Life was
so fucking unfair. My girls were gone. It was Christmas and I was alone. I'd
never, ever, spend another Christmas with Briana and Allora. Never.
An hour later I was at Sandy's back door with three huge
garbage bags full of gifts. It had taken me two trips. I knocked softly and a
few moments later Sandy let me in. She'd gotten rid of her party clothes as
well, answering the door in a plain robe. She looked tired. I guessed that
she'd been waiting up for me.
"Erica?" I asked softly.
"Asleep," she confirmed, taking one of the bags
from me.
Quietly we headed to her front room and started spreading
out the gifts. On each one, I removed the existing tag and she put a new
sticker 'from Santa' on it. She asked me what was in each, but I couldn't
remember all of them. Still, I was able to fill her in on the majority. She
must have had some plan in mind, because she organized them according to my
descriptions of their probable contents, separating them in neat little piles.
After about 15 minutes I looked over and saw her shaking her head.
"What?"
"It's too much."
"That's what my ex said every year. I never got a
complaint from the girls."
She gave me a wry smile. "At least one of us is going
to have a pretty spectacular Christmas."
"Isn't that how it should be?"
I saw her nod, and noticed that her eyes were glistening
again. I decided to leave it alone.
Until those moments, I really hadn't seen Sandy as a woman.
I'd related to her as a person in need. But between her dressing up at the
party, her comments on my patio, and the way she was dressed in just a robe,
I'm almost ashamed to say I was scoping her out.
She was rail thin, with short dark brown hair, almost black.
She wasn't very large on top, but when she was moving around on her hands and
knees, arranging presents, I got a few glimpses inside the top of her robe, and
saw the swelling of very feminine breasts. Her legs were as thin as the rest of
her, but with decent calf definition. Some of her movements were less than
ladylike, and I saw myself peeking up the bottom of her robe, looking at her
pale inner thighs, or glancing at her round rear giving form to her robe.
Her face was cute. Small turned up nose, narrow mouth with
bowed upper lip, and natural eyebrows fuller than was popular, above big brown
eyes. Those eyes were extremely expressive, and somewhat mesmerizing.
I found myself looking at her too often, and she eventually
caught me at it.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," I answered quickly. Trying to cover
myself I explained. "You just look happier than I've seen you until
now."
One corner of her mouth turned up. "I guess for once
you're seeing me when I'm not completely pissed-off at you."
We finished with the gifts and I carefully stood up and
gingerly stepped around the pretty wrapped up presents. I turned and held my
hand out to Sandy while she did her best to maneuver around them without
stepping on any. She almost made it before stumbling at the last minute,
kicking a pile over and falling toward me. I caught her and held her up,
pulling her backward with me until the wall halted my retreat.
She stared up at me, my arms still wrapped under hers,
holding her closer than I intended. Her hair smelled like strawberries.
"I should be furious with you," she said, leaning
into me.
"I know."
I pulled her upright, but she clung to me, pressing against
me.
"We don't need anybody." She sounded angry again.
I shrugged, hard to do while holding a fragile woman in my
arms. "I don't have anybody."
Her look softened. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'll be Ok." I closed my eyes, and
thought once more of my kids. I could feel myself on the verge of losing it
again.
Without warning her lips were on mine, gentle at first. Then
I felt her fingers dig into my skin, and she was kissing me fiercely, her teeth
pressed hard against my lips. I pulled her tightly against my body, opening my
mouth to hers, returning her ardor.
It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She was
clutching at me, kissing me, hugging me, hitting me, scratching me, while I
stood there holding her, absorbing it all. I waited for her to calm down, and
when she didn't I reached down and lifted her by the ass, holding her tight,
while her legs encircled me. She bit my lip hard, and I could taste blood,
while her claws sank into my shoulders.
I could feel the anger and frustration in her, the desire to
strike out somehow at the unfairness of it all. I echoed those feelings,
accepting them, expanding them, and returning them in kind. Yes, I was angry
too. Furious. The taste of my own blood on my lips just served to fuel the
fire.
Like everything else, having her vent her anger on me, while
I was the only one in the world trying to help her was patently unfair. I was
hurting too. I had lost so much more. So very much more. I was tired of being
treated like dirt.
Holding her by the rear in one hand, I grasped her hair from
behind, pulling her hair back making her gasp. I lowered my mouth to her
slender neck and bit her, sucking on her flesh. Both of her hands went to my
head, entangling in my hair, and pulling my face down against her. Her hips
ground against me, while her bare feet beat a tattoo against my back.
Sandy pulled my head back by the hair, and I loosened my
grip on hers. She stared into my eyes, hers flashing with pent up emotions.
"Damn you!" she gasped. She leaned in and pressed
her lips against mine again, still fierce and unrelenting.
I turned and pressed her against the wall, trapping her
there with my body. My hand lowered and slid into her robe, meeting nothing but
bare flesh. I grabbed her breast and squeezed, causing her to moan into my
mouth. Her hands weren't idle and she was pushing the top of my sweats down,
using her feet to push them down in the back. She squeezed a hand between us,
her other wrapped around my shoulders, and I felt her fingers wrap around my
hardness. It was hard to believe how I was responding to her and her tantrum,
but there was no doubt.
I took over, pushing my sweats down, letting them slide down
to my ankles, drawing my boxers with them. I was naked from the waist down and
exposed. Our lips had never separated, and she sucked hungrily on my tongue,
while I tore open her robe, roughly. Like me, she was naked underneath, except
for a pair of loose shorts. She had my cock in her hand, and aimed it at her
moist opening, pushing the leg of her shorts aside. I lowered her, easing into her,
until I was fully sheathed.
She groaned. Her hand now free, she grabbed me by the hair
and tugged back, drawing her lips away. "You bastard," she gasped.
"Bitch," I growled. I pulled my hips back and
thrust into her hard, pushing her into the wall, eliciting another gasp. I felt
my own anger welling up inside of me. I knew I wasn't really angry at her, but
she was the unintended victim of my fury. I slammed my cock into her hard,
grinding against her. Pulling back, I did it again, even harder, doing my best
to push her right through the wall. She gasped as if I'd struck her.
"That's right, fuck me," she whispered harshly.
"Go ahead, fuck m
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