Saturday, July 16, 2011

Chapter 26

Annabelle wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and dropped it on the counter next to the drainer full of freshly-washed dishes.  A stray lock of honey-blonde hair tickled her cheek as she turned toward the stove.  She reached up to tuck it behind her ear before reaching for the aluminum-foil-covered plate resting on the back burner.

With the plate in one hand, Annabelle used her free hand to pull open a drawer and extract a fork and knife.   Sliding the drawer closed with a firm bump of her hip, she glanced toward the kitchen window.  The sky outside was the soft aubergine of twilight.

Annie moved through the quiet little house, to the front door.  Again using her hip to push open the screen door, she stepped out onto the porch.  She paused, looking out across the yard.  Richie was still where she had left him nearly two hours ago, sitting in the weathered old chair, his guitar cradled in his lap. 

His form was silhouetted in the dusky evening light, against the soft silvery backdrop of the marsh.  Across the yard fireflies winked like twinkling little stars, dancing just above the ground.  Annie watched Richie’s slight movements as his soft bluesy croon drifted through the heavy night air, mingled with the gentle melody from his guitar strings. 

The scene melted Annie’s heart.  A tender smile curving her lips, she stepped down off the porch and crossed the lawn. 

“Hey there.  You hungry yet?”

The quiet inquiry startled Richie, even as he felt her presence.  “Huh?”  He turned in his seat, looking back over his shoulder at the source of his interruption.  

With the movement he bumped the small spiral-bound notebook that was resting on the chair’s wooden arm, sending it fluttering to the grass at his feet.  Richie muttered a swear as he leaned down to pick up the pad and toss it into his guitar case, then turned his attention to Annie.

 A sheepish grin spread across Richie’s face as he saw Annie smiling at him, holding a foil-covered plate.  He realized he had forgotten all about Annie’s dinner call.  The one she had made while it was still light out, at least an hour ago.

“Oh.  Umm… Yeah.  I’m starving, actually.”  Richie chuckled softly.  “Sorry.  I was supposed to help you cook, wasn’t I?”

“Uh huh.”  Annie smirked gently and moved forward, circling around Richie’s open guitar case to the empty chair at his side.  She lowered herself onto the seat, resting the warm plate on her knee.  “And you were supposed to eat with me, too.”

“Sorry.”  Richie felt his cheeks flush at her gentle chastisement.  “I heard you call me.  I just… well, I was working on this riff and I thought it would only take a minute…”

“Richie, it’s okay.”  Annie cut off his apology with a warm smile and a shake of her blonde head.  “I coulda called you again.  But I didn’t wanna interrupt.  I could tell you were on to somethin’.”  She held out the plate in a silent offering. 

Richie ducked his head and pulled his guitar from his lap, propping it against the side of his chair before reaching for the plate.  He sat forward on the edge of his chair, balancing the dish on his knees as he tugged at the edges of the tinfoil. 

“So… Umm… What is it?”

“Nothin’ fancy.”  Annie smiled gently as she watched Richie pick at the foil.  “Ham steak, some fried taters an’ onions.  Green beans from the garden.”

Richie succeeded in lifting the foil wrapper, crinkling it into a ball and tossing it into his guitar case beside the notebook.  He chortled softly as he found himself confronted with a good-sized mound of food.  “Damn, Annie.  You keep feedin’ me like this I’m gonna get fat.”

“I don’t think there’s much chance of that.” Annie giggled softly.  “You ain’t got an ounce of fat on ya.  Miss Tillie thinks you’re too skinny.”  She handed Richie the fork and knife she had carried out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, well… spendin’ all the little money you have on beer and gas and guitar strings will keep ya skinny,” Richie replied wryly.  He scooped a big forkful of crispy brown potatoes into his mouth.  “Mmmm… fuck, these are good.” Richie mumbled.

Annie grinned and sat back in her chair, pulling her legs up beneath her on the wide seat.  She watched Richie eat for a minute before letting her gaze wander to the guitar at his side.  Her smile softened as she evaluated the simple instrument, until now a source of mystery to her.  Since Richie’s arrival it had been locked up in its case, a prisoner of his sadness. 

But for some reason Richie had taken out his guitar and began to play; not for her, but for himself.  For the past several hours he had been consumed by the task, seemingly in his own little world out here at the far end of her yard.  Annie had been able to hear snippets of the music he was making, but she didn’t recognize any of the words or melodies.  Her eyes dropped to the notebook resting inside Richie’s guitar case.  She could see faint lines of messy handwriting in the dim light.

“So…”  Annie hesitated, not sure if she should ask.  Richie had been so sensitive about the topic of music in the short time they had known each other.  But he seemed so relaxed and unguarded right now.

Richie looked up from his almost-empty plate, waiting for her question.  He arched a brow when she didn’t immediately continue.  “So?” he prodded.

Annie felt an inexplicable little nervous flutter in her stomach.  She shrugged and wrapped her arms around her bare legs, pulling her knees in closer to her chest.  “So… what have you been out here playin’?”

Richie swallowed the mouthful of ham he had been chewing, then looked back down at his plate.  A secretive little smile curved the corner of his mouth before he answered.  “Just some… stuff.  Something that just kinda came to me, earlier.”

Annie tilted her head, his response piquing her curiosity.  “Came to you?”

Richie nodded, then turned his head to give Annie a full view of his little smile.  “Yeah.”

“You mean…. Like… Like you had an idea for a song?”

Richie shrugged, returning his gaze to his food.  He speared the last piece of fried ham on his fork and popped it into his mouth, his smile broadening as he chewed.  He could feel Annie’s expectant gaze on him, but he needed a minute to figure out how to explain what had happened, how he had suddenly been hit with the lightning bolt of musical inspiration.  

Annie realized she was holding her breath as she watched Richie eat.  She didn’t know what to think, what to say.  It was obvious from his little smirk that he wasn’t upset or unhappy with her question.  There was no trace of the melancholy that had cloaked his handsome features every time she had asked him about music before.  It was almost like he was puzzled with her question, unsure how to answer.

A quiet sigh escaped Annabelle’s lips as she remembered to exhale.  The gentle rush of breath made Richie turn his attention back to her.  He swallowed, then set his knife and fork across his plate and moved it from his lap to the wide wooden arm of the Adirondack chair.  Richie shifted in his seat, turning to more fully face Annie.  When he spoke his voice was calm and even.

“I was watching you from the porch.  You were hanging up a sheet on the clothesline.” He chuckled softly.  “You had to stand on your tiptoes to pin it up, and I was checking out your legs.”

Annie giggled softly but didn’t speak, not wanting to interrupt.

Richie’s smile gentled.  “I was thinking how it nice it is here.  Peaceful.  I mean, today it was like I was in some place where I didn’t have any worries or cares.  Someplace I could just hang out and relax.”  He chortled quietly.  “Don’t get me wrong, I worked my ass off in your garden and your yard.  That wasn’t exactly relaxing.  But it felt good.”

“Thank you for that,” Annie responded quietly, her eyes sparkling in the dusky light as she smiled back at Richie.

Richie brushed her thanks away with a wave of one of his big hands.  “Naw, I was happy to do it.  Anyway…”  He paused for a moment, gazing at Annabelle.  When he continued his voice carried a note of huskiness. 

“I was watching you hang out the clothes, and you looked so damned pretty, Annie.  Those long, tan legs and that shiny blonde hair and that sweet smile...  With the sun, and the grass, and the sky…   I just could hardly believe my eyes.   Or my luck.  That such a beautiful, smart, kind, generous, fantastic woman could fall for some doofus like me.”

Annie’s eyes moistened as her heart squeezed.  “Richie…” she breathed.  But the rest her words caught in her throat.

“Annie, I don’t know what happened, but somehow… I was watching you, and all of a sudden I just… I heard music.  In my head, in my heart…”   Richie blushed slightly and shrugged.  Now that he had said it out loud it sounded kind of silly.  But it was the truth.  “I could hear my guitar, hear myself singing the words, in my head.  I had to write it down.”

Annie’s gaze flicked back to the notebook in Richie’s guitar case.  “So you grabbed your guitar and came out here… and started writin’.” 

Richie nodded and reached for the object of her attention.  He pulled the notebook onto his lap and leafed through it, smiling sheepishly.  “I got some ideas, mostly riffs and melodies.   But I got some lyrics too.” 

He chuckled and shook his head at himself before looking up at Annabelle.  “It’s been a long damned time since I’ve been able to write, Annie.  Not a note or a word, for almost a year.  I was…”  Richie’s voice cracked slightly, and he paused to clear his throat.  “I was sure… I’d lost it.  That I couldn’t write anymore.  And a musician who can’t write his own stuff ain’t never gonna make it out of the bars.”

Richie dropped his gaze again to the book in his hands, his long fingers tracing over the words he had written as he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“Maybe you just needed to take some time off,” Annie observed gently, her own voice husky with emotion.  “A change of scenery, somethin’ different…”

“Inspiration.”  Richie supplied the word for her.  “I needed something to make me want to write again.”

Annie’s heart fluttered as she heard the subtext of his words.  “And me hangin’ out the wash is what made you wanna write a song?”

Richie smiled at her husky chuckle, turning his eyes to meet hers.  You inspire me, Annie.  Just you.”

“Oh.”  It was the only word Annie could utter, a soft whisper that escaped past the rising lump in her throat.  Her sapphire eyes glittered with moisture in the twilight, the little tears on her lashes catching the light of the rising full moon.  She had never had a man say such a romantic thing to her before.  It was almost overwhelming. 

But even as her heart squeezed with emotion Annie knew what she had to do.  She had to be honest with Richie, that he didn’t belong here.  That he had to go back home, share his music, and reach for his dream.  He had a gift, a special talent he couldn’t let wither away here in this little town, just so he could be with her.

But she didn’t have to tell him right now.

Annie and Richie stared at each other for a long moment, sharing a gentle smile.  Annie felt herself falling into the chocolate depths of Richie’s beautiful, expressive eyes.  His gaze was different now, full of warmth and contentment where before there had been guarded melancholy. 

“Can… can I hear it?”  Annie’s soft voice broke the spell, delivering her meek question.  “What you’ve been working on?”

“Well…”  Richie paused before answering carefully.  He didn’t want to hurt Annie’s feelings, but he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to share the words he had written.  “I don’t exactly have a song yet.  Kinda just pieces of one.  Of a couple, actually.”

“Oh.”  The quiet word was tinged with disappointment.  “Oh… okay.”

“But  I can play you some of it,” Richie continued hastily, his heart clenching at her sad tone.  “The guitar parts, I mean.  I just… I don’t quite know what to do with the lyrics yet.”  He let out a little breath of relief when he saw Annie’s lips curve upward in response to his offer.  “They.. uh… they don’t really make sense.”

Annie nodded, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.  “Oh.  Okay.”  She shifted in her chair, turning a little more toward Richie.  “Just the music, then.”

“Okay.”  Richie reached for his guitar, careful to avoid toppling the dinner plate resting on the chair arm.  He pulled the instrument onto his lap and scooted to the edge of the seat, his long legs folding awkwardly under him.  Annie giggled softly as she watched Richie shift around until he was comfortable.

“This is kinda rough, so bear with me.”  Richie apologized.  “I think I got the melody down, but I’m not so sure about some of the chords.”

Annabelle smiled and shook her head at Richie’s nervous explanation.  “Richie, it don’t bother me if it ain’t perfect.  I just wanna hear you play.”

Richie gave her a little shrug in reply.  “Okay.  Here goes.”  He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands on the strings, then began to play.

Delicate notes flowed from the strings, seeming to float on the night air.  The melody was soft and gentle, almost like a lullaby, yet it carried a subtly mournful note.  When Richie added the chords, the piece took on an almost haunted quality, rich and vibrant yet somehow comforting.

Annie couldn’t hold back a little gasp of awe as she watched Richie’s fingers dance over the strings.  She had always been amazed that such beautiful sounds could come from such a simple instrument, in the right hands.  And Richie’s hands were wondrous.

After a scant few minutes Richie stopped playing.  “Uh… that’s kinda all I have,” he shrugged sheepishly.  “I was about to work on the bridge when you came out with supper.”

“It’s beautiful,” Annie breathed.  “And you… you wrote that… because of… of me?” 

Richie smiled at Annie, his heart squeezing at the wonder in her wide blue eyes.  “Yeah.  All I had to do was close my eyes and picture you… and the music just came out, through my hands.”  He shrugged and felt a light blush warm his cheeks as he modestly dropped his gaze to the guitar on his lap.  “It happens like that… when it’s good.”

“Richie… it’s amazin’.  You’re amazin’.  You have such incredible talent…”  Annie realized she was gushing and stopped herself.  She didn’t want to embarrass Richie, after what he had shared with her.  But he was just so good…

Richie shrugged again and chuckled softly.  “Thanks.  But I think you’re a little biased.”

“Maybe so.”  Annie smiled gently.  “But I do know what I like.  And I love that, Richie.  It’s just gorgeous.”  She reached out to give Richie’s arm a gentle squeeze.  “An’ I can’t wait to hear the words you put with it.  I love the way you sing.”

Richie returned Annie’s smile, his hand moving from his guitar to cover hers.  “You asked me last night if I’d play something for you.  Before we went out, remember?”

“Uh huh.”

“You still want me to?  I mean, I can play something you know.  I know lots of covers.”

Annabelle grinned eagerly.  “You bet.”  Gently pulling her hand from under Richie’s she turned in her seat to fully face him, folding her legs under her.

“What do you wanna hear?”

“Whatever you wanna play.  I’m easy.”

Richie chuckled at her eagerness, his hand automatically dropping back to its place over the strings.  He absent-mindedly strummed a few soft chords as he looked out over the marsh, trying to think of an appropriate song with which to serenade his lovely Muse. 

When Richie glanced over at Annie and saw her golden hair shining in the rising moonlight it came to him.  The perfect song for this moment.  Richie smiled and began to rock gently in his seat as he picked out the introductory notes to Joe Cocker’s ballad. 

Annie’s eyes widened as she recognized the gentle melody.  It was even more beautiful on the delicate strings of Richie’s guitar than it sounded on quiet piano keys.  Her hand moved to her chest, resting over her heart as it fluttered with happiness.

Then he sang.  Softly, earnestly, honestly… the lyrics giving voice to the emotion swelling in his heart as Richie gazed at the beautiful angel before him.

You are so beautiful
To me…
You are so beautiful
To me…
Can’t you see
You’re everything I hoped for
You’re everything I need
You are so beautiful
To me

Richie’s velvety, whiskey-blues voice was nearly Annabelle’s undoing.   It nourished her soul, ignited her body.  It made her want him more than she had ever wanted anything before.

She watched Richie with passion-veiled eyes, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the dark fringe of his lashes against his moonlit skin.  His long shag falling over his strong shoulders, his trim torso rocking in time with the silent cadence of his song.  And those hands… those lovely, gifted hands… dancing across the strings of his instrument.

He was beautiful.

You are so beautiful
To me…
You are so beautiful
To me…
Can’t you see
You’re everything I hoped for
You’re everything I need
You are so beautiful
To….. me……

After he plucked the last note, Richie opened his eyes and turned his face to Annabelle’s.   He almost gasped at the raptured expression on her lovely face.  Then he chuckled softly. 

“That okay?”

“That was… perfect.”  Annie’s voice was breathy, full of desire.  “Richie… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”  Richie slipped the guitar from his lap and carefully laid it in its case, then pushed himself up from his seat.  He held out his hand, a silent invitation for Annabelle to join him.

The look she gave him as she placed her hand in his nearly made Richie’s knees buckle.  He swallowed hard as he watched Annie gracefully unfold her legs and slowly rise from her seat.  She stepped close to Richie, her arms sliding around his waist as she tilted her face up to his.  Her moist, plump lips glistened in the moonlight, enticing him for a taste.

Richie’s hands automatically went to Annie’s hips as he ducked his head to press his mouth to hers.  A soft groan escaped him as he savored the kiss.  A warm flush swept through his body as Annie moved closer, molding her body against his.

When their lips parted, Richie and Annie gazed at each other for a long moment before Annie spoke softly. 

“It’s gettin’ late.”

Richie nodded.  “Yeah.  You gotta work tomorrow, right?”

“Mmm Hmm.  At eight.  An’ you’re gonna go work on your car with Eddie, right?”

“Yeah.”  Richie sighed and slipped his arms around Annie’s waist, pulling her closer.  He smiled as she turned her cheek against his chest.  “So, no gallivantin’ tonight, huh?”  He felt Annie’s giggle in response.

“Nope.”  Annie could hear Richie’s heart racing under her, and she could feel the swelling lump in the front of his jeans.  “Besides, there’s nowhere to go out gallivantin’ to.  It’s Sunday.”

“Oh yeah.  I forgot.”  Richie chortled quietly, then sighed as the fresh scent of her hair filled his senses.  “Well then… um… what do you wanna do?  I can play some more, or we can watch TV, or… or play a game or something….”  Even as he spoke Richie fervently hoped Annie wouldn’t want to undertake any of the activities he mentioned. 

Richie felt Annie chuckle against his chest, then she raised her head.  She pulled back enough to look up at him, her eyes meeting his.

“Richie, I think we’re past playin’ games, don’t you?”  Her voice was soft and husky.

“Uh huh,” Richie breathed.  Unconsciously his tongue slid across his lower lip as he drew in a slow, deep breath.  He could see in Annabelle’s eyes what she wanted, before the words slipped from her soft, shiny lips.

“I want you to make love to me, Richie.”

Richie exhaled softly as he silently nodded.  He and Annabelle gazed at each other for another long moment, then she gently disengaged herself from his embrace.  Taking his hand, she turned toward the house.  Richie silently followed her across the night-dampened lawn and up the steps to the porch.

A pair of lightning bugs winked at each other as they hovered over Richie’s guitar, abandoned under the summer moon.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Chapter 25

“What… what are you doing?” Richie mumbled gleefully.  He knew full well what Annie was doing, but he could hardly believe it.  She was still in her pretty Sunday dress.  They hadn’t even made it in the door yet.

“Somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout all morning,” Annie purred.  She chuckled throatily and tugged at the waist of his jeans, the weight of his belt helping her slide the worn denim down past the point of his hip.  The wiry hair of Richie’s thigh tickled the backs of her fingers beneath the tight cotton leg band of his underwear.

“Ahhh…” Richie breathed involuntarily as the back of Annie’s hand pushed against his rigid cock.  “You… you mean you were sitting in… in church… thinking about my… my dick?”  Despite his arousal at the deliciously dirty thought, Richie’s cheeks colored lightly.

“Mmmm Hmmm…”  Annie giggled softly and raised her other hand to tug Richie’s jeans down over his other hip.  The pants slid halfway down his thighs, fully revealing his full-to-bursting briefs.  “Actually, I kept rememberin’ that story you told me last night.  When we were playin’ Truth or Dare, remember?”

“Uh… Huh?”  Richie blew out a long breath as his groin surged.  He needed to remain calm, to relax and enjoy what was about to happen.  He certainly didn’t need to get too excited and come in his shorts before Annie had the chance to… Well, whatever it was she was about to do. 

“You know.  The story you told me.  ‘Bout your first time?”  Annie arched a coy brow as she gazed up at him, her hand still resting against Richie’s crotch while she watched confusion swirl in Richie’s deep brown eyes.  She giggled again as she saw that right now he probably didn’t even remember his own name, let alone what he had told her last night.

“You took a Truth.  I asked how you lost your virginity?” she prodded gently.  “You said some blonde-haired girl at the beach took you in a bedroom and gave you your first blowjob, remember?  Jenny, or somebody?”

 “Julie.  Yeah… I remember.”  Richie’s voice was little more than a dry croak.

Annie shifted in her kneel, turning her hand to again cup over Richie’s erection, making him groan with delight.  “Well, I was just thinkin’…” She grinned up at Richie, watching him wince as she gave his cock a light squeeze.  “Betcha I can do better than she did.”

Annie’s boastful declaration made Richie laugh hoarsely.  He grinned back down at her.  “I dare ya to try.” 

Annabelle chuckled at Richie’s response.  “Well, then.  I can’t back down from a Dare, can I?”  Her sky-blue eyes sparkled with passion-tinted mischief.  “But first you get outta those Sunday clothes.”

Richie wasn’t about to argue.  Immediately he raised a hand to yank at the loose knot below his collar.  With a couple quick jerks he untied the tie and pulled it from around his neck, dropping it behind him on the porch swing before his fingers scrabbled over his shirt buttons.  He rapidly unfastened his shirt, then shed it and peeled off his undershirt.  The shirts joined the tie on the gently-swaying swing.

Richie bent down, groaning softly as the movement shifted his cock in Annie’s grasp.  He reached for his belt, planning to divest himself of his pants per her order. 


Her quiet word made him freeze.  Richie stared down into Annie’s beautiful face, seeing her smile had softened. 

“I’ll do that.”  She held his gaze for a long moment, then straightened from her kneel, reaching up for him.  Richie leaned down to touch his lips to Annabelle’s in a breathless, wanton kiss.

“Annie… God, I…”

“Shhh.”  She smiled before settling back into her kneel and returning her attention to Richie’s crotch.  Her delicate hands pushed at the denim swaddling his thighs, guiding Richie’s jeans down his long legs until they bunched around his ankles.  Then she trailed her fingertips lightly up the outsides of his legs.  Annie chuckled as she watched Richie flinch at the tickle.

When her fingers reached the elastic banding his thighs, Annie paused.  She took a deep breath and watched the bulge in Richie’s underwear visibly twitch under her gaze.  An eager smirk curved her full lips as Annie’s hands moved in unison to the waistband of Richie’s briefs, then her fingers curled under the band. 

Annie slowly pulled at the elastic, her eyes widening as she stretched it outward to uncover Richie’s rigid shaft.  Unconsciously her lower lip slipped between her teeth as she guided his briefs down his thighs. 

Once he was fully uncovered Annie stared at Richie’s manhood, taking in the impressive sight.  Annie had seen Richie naked last night, but in the shadowy moonlight.  Now, in the light of day, she could fully appreciate his endowment.

Again Richie’s cock twitched under Annie’s gaze, causing her to blink.  She realized his breathing was shallower, more uneven.  Her eyes slipped from his shaft to the thick shag of dark hair against his skin, then followed the fuzzy stripe up to Richie’s navel.  She watched his abdomen quiver as he panted with anticipation.

“Wow…” Annie breathed softly.

Richie chuckled throatily.  “Uh… thanks.”

Annie turned her face upward, giving Richie a wide-eyed little smile.  Then she dropped her gaze again to his crotch.  She stared for another moment at Richie’s swollen member, then she reached up to take him in her hand.  Pulling gently, she flexed his shaft away from his body, toward her mouth. 

Ohhhhhh……” Richie groaned as he watched Annie’s soft pink lips pucker against his head.  His hands fisted against his thighs as he involuntarily rocked a bit forward.  God, how he wanted her to open her mouth, to take him in and surround his cock with warm, wet pressure, to guide him to his threatening climax.

But she wasn’t ready for that yet.  And Richie couldn’t look away.

Annie’s womb clenched at the salty-sweet tang of Richie’s flesh against her lips.  His cock was so hard, so proud, so… so BIG.  She chuckled softly.  There was no other word for it.  Annie hadn’t seen all that many penises in her life, but she had been around enough to know that Richie’s was definitely larger than anything she had ever seen or heard of.

Annie’s lips puckered against the slick, purplish skin, suckling lightly before relaxing to fully encircle his head.  She felt Richie’s pelvic muscles tense as he sucked in and held a breath.  Annie couldn’t stop a little hum of delight at his reaction to her.  The vibration was met by another loud gasp.

Easy,” Richie hissed, as much to himself as to her.  “I… I’m so…”

Annie immediately drew back, releasing him from her mouth.  “Sorry.  I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

Richie’s eyes widened at her response.  “No!  God, no… it just feels so good.”  He smiled weakly.  “I just don’t want you to think I’m… uh… you know.  Too…fast.”

Annie chuckled softly at his confession.  “You weren’t last night.”  She  smirked up at him then leaned in close again, puffing a light breath across his shining, swollen head.  “But I can take it slow if ya want.”

Richie winced at the firm squeeze of her hand and the gentle breeze from her lips, his eyes squeezing involuntarily shut.  He felt his dick throb in reply, demanding further attention.  “Not… not too slow,” he grunted through clenched teeth.  Richie forced his eyelids apart, staring back down at his beautiful tormentor.

“Well, okay then.”  Again Annie leaned in, this time lightly tracing the tip of her tongue along the firm ridge of muscle that ringed his cock.  She felt him twitch in her hand as her tongue fully circled Richie’s head before she closed her mouth over him.  Testing his resolve, she sucked sharply.

“AHH!” Richie yelped in surprise.  His knees nearly buckled and he swayed forward.  Automatically his hands reached for her, attempting to right his balance.  His fingers snaked into her honey-gold curls and curved over her scalp.

Annie’s lips curved into a grin, parting from his flesh and releasing the pressure on his cock.  She pulled her mouth from him and glanced up at Richie’s face.  His cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted as he panted raggedly.  Annie felt a stab of sympathy.

“Why don’cha sit down?”  Her soft words were more a directive than a question.  “Don’t want ya to fall over or anything.”  She chuckled huskily. 

“Yeah.  Okay.”  Richie breathed.  He paused for a minute, then reluctantly pulled his fingers from Annie’s silky golden curls.  He slowly leaned back, letting Annie help guide him down onto the swing.  The wooden bench creaked softly and wobbled on its chains as he settled his weight on it and slumped against its slatted back.

“There.”  Annie smiled at Richie, then shifted on her knees.  She rested her hands lightly on Richie’s thighs for a moment, regarding his taut, tanned, lightly-furred body.  His reclining position allowed the rigid pillar of his cock to jut away from his body, ready for her touch.  “Better.”

“Uh huh,” Richie agreed breathlessly.

Annie’s smile faded as she reached for Richie.  Her eyes locked on her hand as her small fingers curled slowly around his erect shaft.  She squeezed gently, watching with fascination as she saw his cock visibly throb in response, then release a pearly drop of moisture from the slit at its tip.  Her lips parted with a little gasp at the erotic sight.

“Annie…” Richie rasped a meek warning as he felt his balls tighten beneath her touch.

Understanding his cue, Annabelle raised up on her knees.  Her golden curls rippled as she gave her head a little shake, then smiled.  Her mouth curved into a soft, pink “O” as she leaned over Richie’s thighs and again took him in.

Richie groaned with delight at the contact.  The corners of his mouth curved upward as he stared down at his crotch, watching Annabelle’s lips inch along his shaft.  The sight was mesmerizing. 

Annie’s eyes fluttered closed as she savored Richie.  His musky scent filled her senses, the salty tang of his flesh whetted her appetite.  Slowly she drew him in, to the back of her throat, until her gag reflexes prevented her from taking more.  Her hand curled again around the base of Richie’s cock, her fingers' width fitting easily into the space between her lips and his pelvis.  She giggled softly at the realization that he was only half-inside her mouth.

Easing back just a bit, Annie curved her tongue against the rigid flesh inside her mouth.  Her action was met with a sharp hiss and a little thrust.  Withdrawing a bit further, Annie relaxed her jaw and slowly moved her mouth in a little circle, allowing Richie’s head to roll against her tongue, teeth, and the roof of her mouth.    When the revolution was complete she sucked firmly, her lips closing over his shaft and sliding up to the fleshy ridge below his head.

“Oh… oh my GOD…” Richie panted.  “Fast.  Annie…. Faster.” 

Again Annabelle felt Richie’s long fingers snake into her hair and curve against her scalp.  Richie pulled gently at Annie’s head, urging her to increase the tempo of her ministrations.

She let out a muffled chuckle, knowing the sound vibrated against Richie’s shaft.  Then she did his bidding.  Continuing to grasp the base of his cock with one hand and bracing her other hand next to Richie’s thigh on the swing’s seat, Annie sucked hard at Richie’s head.  Then she began to fuck him with her mouth, her honeyed curls bobbing frantically with the motion.

“Jesus.  Fucking.  CHRIST!!!” Richie yelped.  His heels dug against the wooden porch floor as his hips bucked upward against Annie’s mouth.  His fingers tightened in her hair as he hung on to her rapidly-bouncing head.  “ANNIE!”

The hot warning burst of his climax against her tonsils made Annie gag.  Automatically she relaxed her jaw and drew her head back, clearing space in her mouth.  The sharp tang of Richie’s cum coated her tongue, causing her to gag again.

Knowing Richie was about to explode in her mouth Annie squeezed the base of his shaft hard, as if to cut off its release.  With her other hand she scrabbled at the bench seat of the porch swing, beside Richie’s hip.  Her fingers closed around soft cotton knit, just in the nick of time.

A guttural, grunting moan tumbled from Richie’s lips as his orgasm overtook him.  His hips bucked upward as his glutes and abs contracted, giving force to his release.  His wide eyes locked on Annie and he watched her gag, then pull her mouth from his shaft.  But he didn’t protest as her fist replaced her mouth. 

Richie moaned again as Annie squeezed and stroked him, coaxing his sweet, sticky fluid to surge forth from his head like a milky fountain.  He panted and watched his cum flow down over Annie’s hand and onto his crotch, lubricating her strokes.  The erotic sight got him off again.

Annie smirked quietly as she watched pure passion swirl in Richie’s glittering brown-black eyes.  He looked so savage, so wild and fierce, reclining naked and sweaty on her porch swing.  His entire body shuddered with the aftershocks of his orgasm as she slowed her up-and-down massage of his cock.

“Annie… e… enough,” he finally gasped.  His long fingers closed over the small hand on his shaft.

Annie chuckled huskily.  “You sure?”

Fuck yeah.”  Richie tried to slow his pounding heart, sucking in a trio of deep breaths.

“Well, okay,”  Annie slowly pried her sticky hand loose from Richie’s now-flagging erection, wiping it on Richie’s discarded undershirt before dropping the white knit onto his crotch.  She gently dabbed the shirt around the base of Richie’s cock before carefully rubbing his shaft.  She smiled at his involuntary shiver in response. 

Her eyes traveled back up Richie’s long, lean body to his face.  Suddenly she felt a little flush of embarrassment as she realized what she had just done.  Her cheeks colored lightly as she gave him a guilty smile.  “Well.  Maybe I’m gonna need a few of those Hail Marys too.”

Richie laughed hoarsely and reached up to tug a hand through his sweaty hair.  “I think you might.  Pretty sure Reverend Purdy wouldn’t approve of what you just did to me.  Still in your Sunday Church dress and all.”  His tease was gentle.

Annie giggled as her eyes met Richie’s and they shared a warm gaze.  “Well, I’m just a mortal sinner, I guess.”

Richie reached forward to brush a finger across Annie’s cheek, his smile gentling.  “A beautiful one, too.”

Annie’s heart melted with his soft compliment.  She carefully climbed to her feet, then settled beside Richie on the swing.  Her palm rested lightly on his chest before she turned her face to his.  She sighed as Richie’s soft lips settled on hers.

After a long, tender kiss Annie pulled back and gave Richie a little wink.  “Okay, I gotta get goin’ on these chores.  Come inside and get your clothes together, so I can put ‘em in the wash.”  She giggled as she nodded at the soiled white undershirt covering his crotch.  “ ‘Specially that one.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Richie grinned, anticipating her response.

“Richie, what did I tell you…”  Annie saw the tease in his eyes and stopped mid-scold.  With a little chuckle and a shake of her blonde head she smoothed her skirt over her lap.  The swing rocked gently as she stood.

Annie took three steps toward the door, her heels clicking softly against the porch’s wooden floor.  She paused with her hand on the screen door’s handle, turning her head to look back over her shoulder.  Annabelle let her eyes roam once more over Richie’s sinewy body, nude except for the white cloth swaddling his groin and the jeans bunched around his ankles.  She groaned softly in appreciation before speaking.

“Come on in and I’ll make you some lemonade.” 

With that she turned and pulled open the screen door.


Richie sighed wearily as he lowered his lanky frame onto the porch step.  He was bushed.  When he had volunteered to help Annabelle with her Sunday chores he hadn’t anticipated having to work quite so hard. 

After recovering from the delightful carnal surprise Annie had sprung on him at their return from church, Richie had spent the afternoon doing her bidding.  He figured it was the least he could do, to help earn his keep. 

And to show his thanks for her generosity of a more intimate nature.

After showering away the aftermath of his porch-swing exertion, Richie had dumped the contents of his rucksack into Annie’s laundry basket then headed out to the garden.  Under her direction he harvested and cleaned tomatoes, beans, cucumbers, squash, onions, and lettuce.  Then he spent a back-breaking hour pulling weeds in the vegetable garden and two flower beds.  

Once his garden chores were finished Richie washed Annabelle’s old pickup truck and checked the oil and fluids.  Then he pulled her rusty lawnmower out of the garden shed and pushed it across her front lawn, cutting the grass in front of her tidy little house.  After that he raked the clippings, dumped them into a wheelbarrow, and wheeled them around back to add to the garden mulch pile.  He completed his yard chores by cleaning, tuning, and greasing Annie’s lawnmower in preparation for next weekend’s work.

Now, four hours of hard labor and another shower later, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back up from this step.

Richie took a long pull at the cold beer in his hand.  The icy beverage slid down his throat, sending a welcome chill through his body.  He sighed again, turning his attention to the clothesline at the side of the yard.

An assortment of jeans, shirts, dresses, and undergarments fluttered in the early evening breeze, pinned to four long wires that hung between T-shaped metal posts.  Richie smiled as he watched Annie pull a pink sheet from the basket at her feet and shake it out, then toss it up over the line.  Her leg muscles flexed as she stood on her bare tiptoes to clothespin the sheet into place.

Richie’s heart squeezed as he admired Annabelle’s form while she hung out the wash.  Impossibly short cutoffs fully displayed her tanned, lean legs.  She had tied her chambray work shirt up around her midriff,  baring her flat belly and a generous slice of cleavage.  Her honey-blonde tresses swirled about her head with the breeze, shining like a golden halo in the late-day sun.

She was gorgeous, an angelic figure glowing against the vibrant green of the cut grass, the shimmering, rippling silver of the marsh beyond the yard, and the deep azure of the summer sky.  Watching Annie perform her simple chore in this place of quiet beauty, Richie felt a sense of peace wash over him.  He smiled and set the beer bottle next to him on the step,  then rested his elbows on his knees and just watched her.

The music hit him like a bolt of lightning.

He heard the words in his head, felt the melody in his heart.  It was as if his soul was singing.  It had been quiet for so long he had almost forgotten what it sounded like.  How it felt.

It consumed him.

His weariness forgotten, Richie jumped up off the step and reached for the screen door.

Annabelle heard the loud clatter of the screen door slamming closed.  Surprised, she turned to look toward the front of the house.  Just a minute ago Richie had been resting on the front porch, watching her hang out the wash.  Now he was gone, his beer bottle abandoned on the step.

Annie’s brow furrowed as she wondered why he had bolted into the house.  Richie had only been relaxing for a couple minutes, taking a break to enjoy a cold beer while she finished this chore.  Then he had vowed to help her prepare supper.

The answer was revealed seconds later.  Annie’s eyes widened as she watched Richie emerge from the house, pushing a large, bulky item ahead of him through the screen door.  Her lips parted with a soft gasp of surprise as she watched Richie carry his guitar case down the porch steps, then stride across the freshly-cut lawn toward the pair of weathered Adirondack chairs at the far end of the yard.

Reaching up to tuck a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear, Annabelle felt her heart flutter with excitement.  The laundry forgotten, Annie’s shining blue eyes remained on Richie, following his purposeful movement. 

Richie reached the chairs and dropped his guitar case onto the grass before lowering himself into one of the seats.  Flipping the latches on the battered case, he carefully drew out a two-toned acoustic guitar and settled it on his knee, not bothering to loop the strap over his head.  He gazed out across the marsh, not seeing the beautiful vista as his mind focused on the music filling his heart.

Annie closed her eyes and smiled as the sweet notes drifted across the summer breeze.