The List

At one point, he could stand it no more and tucked Ford into his padded high chair. Betsy had the night off and we were alone in the house. I was at the sink, scrubbing a bowl. Worth came up behind me, his hand sliding beneath my skirt and up the inside of my leg. He probed my pussy with his index finger and despite myself, I couldn’t help but orgasm. He laughed gently, kissing the back of my neck as he turned away, but not before I saw his full erection. I fought to maintain control, but it was no good. I turned off the water and spun around, following him back to his chair. I knelt before him, my fingers smoothly sliding down his zipper and unbuttoning his pants. I released his cock from his shorts and it sprang to full attention.

With a scorching slowness, I kissed the inside of his thighs, my hands pumping him gently as he waited for the cavern of my mouth. He closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards, intent upon the sensation. My lips moved across every centimeter of skin that was not his penis, drawing him out until the anticipation was too much to stand. He grabbed my head by a handful of hair and forced my mouth upon his swollen shaft. I opened fully and let it go down as far as I could take it. His growl of enjoyment told me it was far enough. Flicking my tongue, I moved my head in a circular motion, using my hands to cover the areas my mouth did not. He was completely and utterly in my control, at his most vulnerable. Round and round, from the base to the tip, I mouthed and licked him. Goosebumps popped out on his arms and he groaned with the mindless sensation that had him in its grip.

He could stand it no longer and lifted me by the waist, settling me upon his cock, my pussy soaked with my own juices that would now mix with his. I began to rock from side to side gently, my tunnel massaging him as he mushroomed to fill me. He pulled up my blouse and his head ducked beneath as he began to suck my breasts. I pulled his face into me, bending to kiss his earlobes and blow into the recesses of his ears. This inflamed him, I knew that.

He pulled me hard against him, desperately trying to match inch to inch of skin between us. Just as I knew he was about to explode, I raised one leg and slid off. He protested loudly, but I slid the dish of strawberry jelly toward me. I dipped my finger and used it to paint his hard dick, then licked off the residue with lips puffed by his kisses. I let the jelly cover my cheeks and chin; a visual of his maleness marking my face. I pushed his thighs far apart and licked every part of him, front to back. He was going crazy.

He went to pull me atop him again, to finish his release, but I shook my head. “Not with all the jelly — that wouldn’t be a good idea to have inside me.” I thought he would faint with need, but he accepted my logic. Instead, I began pumping him, my fist tight around his pulsing shaft. Furiously at first, I slowed and went lighter with every passing moment until his erection had dwindled and he was left with nothing more than a sticky mess over his crotch and clothing. The jelly prevented my hand from sliding smoothly and the effect was almost like sandpaper.

“Ohhhh.” I feigned disappointment. “Hurry and shower and change. I’ll keep dinner hot for you.” There was a flash of something in his eyes I couldn’t read, but he obliged and left the room. I went to the sink and washed my pussy and then with another cloth, my breasts and face. I threw these away and went back to cooking dinner.

Worth was back in only a few minutes, his hair still wet from his hasty shower. He looked like a young boy who’d been promised candy if he ate his dinner.

“Sit down, your dinner’s finished,” I urged him.

He almost fell into the chair. I think he was hoping I was speaking with euphemisms and would finish him sexually, but I calmly pulled the roast chicken from the oven, as well as the ceramic bowl of mashed potatoes and home-cooked green beans that were warming within. He was practically salivating at the attention and coziness of our setting. Coffee was ready to go and I pulled the final triumph, an apple pie topped with French crumbles, from the warming tray and set it on a trivet on the table. His eyes lit like the child who couldn’t decide which present to open first.

“Look good?” I asked as he began to fill his plate.

“Sweetheart, this is wonderful.” He could hardly clear a word with a bit of drool at the delicious odors that permeated the room.

I let him eat a bit before I spoke. Just about two bites of everything on his plate. “Worth?” I mewled.

“Yes, sweetheart?” His senses were in hyper mode.

“Do you trust me?”

He paused with a fork just at his lips. “Trust you? Well, of course I trust you. Why wouldn’t I?” His brain was still wrapped in the sex and covered with mashed potatoes and butter from the green beans.

“I mean, trust me in every sense, without hesitation, without question?” I put to him again.

“Yes, sweetheart.” He took another huge bite. His appetite was exactly where I’d hoped. “Why all these questions?”

“Well…” I began, pushing around my food without him noticing that I’d not yet taken a single bite. “Just thinking. For example, what if I were to tell you that at this very moment, one thing is true?”

He was absently giving himself another portion of chicken. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

I laid my fork down a bit loudly and said in a very clear voice, “What if I were to tell you that one of us is a liar and I’ve put poison in that person’s food?”

My words got through his glutton haze and his eyes opened widely as they sank in. “What kind of poison?” he asked, slamming down his fork and grabbing his napkin to spit the food from his mouth. He ran to the patio door and stuck his finger down his throat, retching onto the fragrant evening grass.

I smiled to myself, left my food untouched, took Ford and went upstairs. I locked the door and slept on the bed in Ford’s room that night. Before I fell asleep, I heard Worth leave, his car spinning down the drive and onto the pavement. I’m guessing he went to the ER, but perhaps he went to her.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


Auggie


I’d never seen the entire interior of Worth’s family home. I would see it now, and it would become my refuge. But first, there was the matter of Mother.

She sat in a wingback chair at the far side of the living room. The light was behind her and her outline resembled that of a witch. Even Ford started to cry, although he knew nothing of witches. Unless you counted his grandmother.

“Mother,” I acknowledged her.

“Auggie,” she returned.

We were like two sumo wrestlers, circling one another to see who would make the first lunge to take the other down and who would anticipate and sidestep.

“I see you’ve brought the baby.” She made the first attempt.

“His name is Ford, if you remember. He’s named for our family.” I sidestepped.

“Was my name, once upon a time,” she tried again.

“Mother, pity won’t work. You earned your banishment.”

“So, why are you here?” She was focused and suspicious. I couldn’t blame her. I would be too.

“At Linc’s invitation. So, how does it feel to finally sit in the throne you coveted for so long?” I went for her knees.

She didn’t reply. I had her on her back.

“What do you want from me?” she asked angrily.

“Actually, I’ve come to give you something,” I told her and I sensed her distrust.