“You see,” she whispered. “That’s just exactly what I mean. And I just … would you mind doing me a favor, Mr. Long?”
“Anything I reasonably can, ma’am.”
“Would you … hold me? Please? Not screw me, see. Lots of men do that. But just … hold me? Like a man does with a woman and not like a sport does with a whore?”
Longarm’s answer was easy enough. He reached up and put his arms around this plain, sad little woman, drawing her down onto his chest and pulling her to him.
Her weight atop him was little more than a thick quilt would have been, and her breath was warm and ticklish against the side of his neck. He held her so as to comfort rather than arouse her. At first her slim body was atremble. Slowly her quaking lessened, and finally disappeared. Her breathing slowed, and after a bit she wriggled a little, seeking a more comfortable position. Longarm slowly, gently stroked the back of her head. Her hair had been loosened and allowed to fall free. It felt cool and silky to the touch. And her body … he frowned, angry with himself. If there was anything Buddy Fulton’s mama did not need right now, it was the feel of a hard-on poking her in the belly. That wasn’t what she had come here to find, and …
He first felt, then softly heard a chuckle forming low in her throat and rocking her whole small body as she tried to contain it.
“What’s so funny?” he whispered.
“You.”
“Me! What the hell did I do?”
“Oh, it’s just that you are such a … how can I put this that I won’t offend you? Just that you are such a man.”
“Somehow I got the notion you don’t mean that like it sounds. An’ anyway, it occurs to me that there ain’t a whole hell of a lot I can do about it.”
“Oh, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“Of course you do. There’s something warm and soft pressed against you, so that blind snake of yours stands up and looks around trying to find the way in. That isn’t what you had in mind, of course. I know that. All you wanted to do right now was to hold me and be nice to me. Because like I said, Mr. Long, you are a very nice man. A truly good and decent man, I think. But here I am, lying on top of you, and you don’t have any control over your own reaction. Your prick is trying to stand at attention and salute, and you’re trying to keep it from gett ing that way. It’s really kind of funny. And cute. And … anyway, that’s what I mean about you being a man. You can’t help yourself. And I can’t help it if I think it’s kind of funny and kind of cute.”
“I ain’t entirely sure, Miz Fulton, but I think I been a little bit complimented outa one side of your mouth an’ just the least little bit insulted outa the other.” He laughed, the rise and fall of his belly carrying her with it like a small boat on a restive sea.
“A little of both perhaps,” she conceded. And then, with a murmur and a smile, she kissed the side of his neck.
“Miz Fulton, really, you don’t gotta …”
“Mr. Long. Please. I know that I don’t have to. It’s just that … for the first time in ever so long … I really would like to. Not for money. I understand what you did earlier, and it has nothing to do with this. It is just that this is a gift I am able to give to you. If you are willing to accept it.”
“Yes,” he said solemnly, sensing that this gift she was offering meant much more than she might be willing to let on. “I would like that very much, Miz Fulton.”
“Could I say one thing then?”
“Anything.”
“Under these, um, circumstances, Mr. Long, don’t you think you should stop being so formal and just call me Angela now?”
He laughed. “If you’ll stop callin’ me mister.”
“All right. But I have to tell you …”
“Yes?”
“I’ve forgotten your first name.”
He laughed harder this time and gave her a quick, fierce hug. Damned if Mrs. Fulton—Angela, that is— wasn’t turning out to be a very nice little woman. And a direct one too.
Practically before the whispering had a chance to die away her hand was investigating his drawers, pushing and tugging and sliding him free of the restraints of the cloth. Still on top and straddling him with her warm, slim body, Angela pulled the hem of her nightgown high. Longarm was plenty ready by then. She lifted herself over him and, pausing for a moment, swiftly speared herself on the erect pole of his manhood.
Angela gasped lightly as she felt the immense length of him fill her. “Are you …”
“Yes, shhh, don’t wake Eric.”
Waking the boy wasn’t exactly what he had on his mind at the moment. Damn but Angela did feel warm and wet around him. “Jeez,” he groaned.
“Shhh,” she warned again.
“Yeah, right, whatever.”
Angela adjusted her position, drawing her legs up so that she was almost squatting over him. She leaned forward a little with her fingertips spread wide and both hands braced on the hard flat of his chest. He wasn’t sure, but thought she was humming to herself very, very softly as his cock burrowed balls-deep inside her.
