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Sparking Ch. 01

By: Rubnesque



Her POV

I guess you could say I'm a cliche. Yet, as my mother always told me, they are cliches for a reason.

I am the frumpily dressed, bunned, bespectacled quiet woman who always seems to find her hero in 280 pages simply by unpinning her hair, putting on some makeup, and trying to be sexy (which never works as intended, but she gets the man anyway cause she's just so darn cute!). However, unlike the heroines of some torrid romance novels, I am still me with or without the glasses and unbound hair.

I was at the top of my graduating classes in both high school and college. I even graduated early with my bachelor's simply because I had no life and the library was my second home. Also, it took me until I was 27 to lose my virginity -- not through lack of interest on my part, but more lack of interest on anyone else's. 

I am a small town girl with a big city heart, but through unfortunate circumstances, I was forced to leave Chicago and come back to the place I worked so hard to leave behind. It was, as most storied cliches go, the result of a death in the family. My father's, to be precise.

Now don't mistake my seeming lack of grief. I loved the old man, but he was such a tyrant in my life as well as any woman within his sphere, I was forced to move 2000 miles East to escape his influence. Yet, somehow, even in death he managed to thwart me and bend me to his will. Both in the literal and figurative sense (I am a humourous person occasionally--even I surprised myself with that witticism).

My mother called me one Saturday morning to inform me of my father's upcoming funeral. Oh, did I mention I wasn't home and she left it as a message on my voice mail? At any rate, I flew home as soon as I could clear it with my boss, and that is how my life took the unexpected turn. 

Unbeknownst to me, though hardly surprising since years before I had quite forcefully let my father know in no uncertain terms I wanted nothing to do with him or his life, he had been forced to take on a partner in his law firm. I rarely came home for the holidays and so I'd never met Mr. Henry James Ryan, Jr.

To be honest, meeting the man of all your wet dreams at a wake is definitely not the place I would've picked, but as Fate would have it (the bitch) that's where I first met him. Well, kind of.

At 5'8" and more pounds then I'd like to admit to, I am not a petite woman (though I've read enough romance novels to wish I was). I had missed the funeral entirely due to bad weather that kept my plane circling for more than an hour before being released to land. 

I know my mother would be angry in the death glare white-lipped kind of way, but wouldn't say a word until all of the guests left, so I figured I was safe for at least three or four hours (or more depending if the sobbing turned into a party as wont to do when a bunch of Irish get together in one place for more than 10 minutes).

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and threw money at the cabbie. I could tell by the line of cars that circled the block, I would be engulfed by a mass of relatives and family friends who would be anxious to share their grief over such a great man's death. Wanting to postpone the inevitable a little longer, I walked around towards the back of the house.

As I neared the back gate, I overheard a few whispers. I stopped as I craned my neck back and forth trying to figure out where they were coming from. Since it was towards dusk and the hedges from the next door neighbor's were overgrown, I couldn't make out who was talking. Yet, within seconds it didn't really matter as I finally realized the whispers weren't words, but moans.

I stood stock still as the sounds of a woman being pleasured washed over me. Her breathy "ohhs" and gutteral "fucks" were intoxicating as she was obviously getting what I yearned for since my last lover hastily departed from my life. 

My suitcase dropped from my nerveless fingers as I stealthily inched forward in order to get a better look. Normally a very circumspect person, a part of me was horrified by the fact I was so curious and wanted to watch. The horny side of me ignored the halo'd presence and pulled on the tendrils of lust currently twining their cruel barbs into my moistening pussy.

The devil agreed with me as I heartily hoped my parents had never fixed the gap in the fence five feet from the gate. Luck was with me and I was able to peer through the hole to the action on the other side. 

A young woman reclined on her elbows, head thrown back, her legs spread wide to accomadate a blond-haired man's busy lips and questing tongue. Though I couldn't really see what he did (due to her thigh being in the way) I could tell he was slurping and swirling to the best of his ability. 

I imagined I could smell the scent of her sloppy sex and I yearned to be in her place. I wanted, nay needed, a man to lap at my gushing pussy or gently bite on that throbbing nob of flesh. Maybe nip at my thigh if I groaned too loudly (they were only 50 feet from the side of the porch after all) or slip a naughty finger into the puckered rosebud of my ass. Maybe two.

I could feel wetness soak my underwear (I say underwear because they were of good sturdy white cotton instead of the more delicate and pretty panties one wears for a beau) and desperately wanted to slip my hand under my woolen skirt to relieve myself. 

So caught up in my own imagination and aching need, I almost didn't catch the slight sound behind me. Whirling around, I saw a tall stranger staring at me, his hands in his coat pockets. I immediately stepped away from the fence and made shooing gestures. A dark eyebrow raised in question and I made the universal gesture for fucking. 

Inclining his head, he gallantly stepped to the side so I could proceed him. Despite the embarrassment of being caught peeping, unsated need still clung to my loins and I wished to return to my spot so I could partake in the pleasure of watching and reaching my own orgasm. 

A tanned hand grasped my arm and tugged slightly. In my lust-filled haze, I had walked past my abandoned case and it was only the stranger's attention to detail that brought it back to my attention. 

Smiling, I silently thanked him and leaned down to pick it up. His hand slid down my arm and long fingers tangled with my own. Gasping a bit at this unexpected intimacy, I looked at him as he raised my hand to his lips. I stared into his green eyes as his tongue traced a subtle pattern on my skin. 

The four alarm fire already taking place in my pussy exploded into a raging inferno I knew could only be quenched by a thick hard cock plunging in and out of whatever orifice it could fit into. Something of my thoughts must've flashed across my normally impassive face because his pupils widened and his fingers clenched.

As to what might've happened next will remain uknown as my mother called my name. The angry undercurrent caressing the syllables quickened my pace as nothing else could. If I didn't appear RIGHT NOW, she would be using my full name and anyone with *that* kind of mother knows what the full name means. Trouble. 

Sparking Ch. 02



His POV

Henry James Ryan, Jr shook his head in bewilderment. The last few minutes had completely rocked his world and his cock still hadn't recovered. He'd gone around the corner to watch his brother pleasure their step-mother and instead found a Peeping Tomessa in his place.

At first, he'd thought she was watching Sandra and Liam in horror and had been ready to step in to avoid any potential drama. The fact the lovely Sandra's husband was in the house and not partaking of his wife's bountiful treasures was problematic enough. The fact it was his own son helping his step-mother through such trying times made it even worse.

It wasn't until she'd turned and faced him that he realized the truth. She was utterly turned on and seconds from playing with her wet pussy. He could practically smell the lust rising from her and it made his cock even harder. He had to admire her aplomb, though, as she never flinched from his presence and even attempted to shoo him away. 

Despite his desire to join her at the fence, perhaps fucking her from behind so they could both watch the other couple, he knew it was better for everyone involved if he steered her from the backyard. Obviously she was here for the wake and he knew he could charm her out of her clothes later when the situation wasn't so dangerous.

It wasn't until he grasped her fingers and brushed his tongue over the sensitive skin on the back of her hand that he understood who she was. It was the look of abject submission to anything he desired that clued him in. She was a lonely Submissive who desperately looked for a Master. 

A second shock hit his system when he heard the voice of his dead partner's wife calling for "Penny," the daughter he'd never met. Her eyes widened for a moment before a mask settled over her expressive features and she'd turned towards the name. The lovely woman who'd peeked out from behind those deep brown pools melted into the shadows.

Almost immediately the sexual heat pouring off her was shut down so completely he had to rub his eyes to ensure she still stood before him. Penny's hand slipped from his grasp and she strode off, never looking back at him. He noticed her suitcase still laid forgotten at his feet and he bent down to retrieve it. At least this would give him an excuse to speak to her once again and find out more about the dual side of her personality. 

A wicked grin curved his lips and had Penny known anything about Henry James Ryan, Jr, she would've run screaming. Preferably straight to his bed.

****

Sandra eyed her tall step-sons from across the room and sighed silently. James, as Henry preferred to be called, and his brother were standing in the corner talking in hushed tones. She wondered if they were discussing her, maybe comparing notes. When he'd left her bed, she'd taken up with Liam in hopes of incurring his jealousy, but apparently he was content with the arrangement. 

Of course, she mused bitterly, he enjoyed watching almost as much as actually fucking so her plan backfired in a big way.

She recognized the hand that slid across her back and settled on her hip. Sandra turned her head with a smile and lightly kissed the grizzled cheek of her husband. Despite the 23 year age gap between them, they had been happily married for nearly twelve years. 

Henry knew of her affairs, though not of those with his sons, and turned a blind eye as long as she remained discreet. He gave her the lifestyle in which she'd grown accustomed to and in turn, she provided companionship and an attractive ornament for his arm. Each understood their role and were satisfied to continue in this vein.

"Why such a heavy frown, m'dear?" he asked genially. "What henhouse have those two foxes gotten into?"

Sandra could hear the muted pride and wanted to retch. She knew how quickly that pride would morph into anger, so she bit back the caustic words that threatened to erupt. Who knows what he would do if he knew just 15 minutes ago his youngest son's tongue had been buried in her pussy, slurping and lapping her into a cascading orgasm. Despite her frustration with James, she truly did enjoy her life and marriage and didn't want anything to interfere.

"Actually, sweetheart, I was frowning becuse I finally met Penny, old John's daughter. I wasn't impressed with her." Sandra had indeed met the younger woman and dismissed her without thought. 

Though taller, Penny carried extra weight around her hips and thighs. She was, as Sandra's father would've called her, rubenesque. In Sandra's world that meant fat. Of course, her lack of personality could be chalked up to the sudden death of her father, but Sandra tended to disagree. 

From the tidbits she'd heard over the years, Penny was incredibly intelligent, but lacked in the social department. Looking at her simple black dress that hung like a sackcloth, Sandra could see why.

"Well, John was very disappointed she chose not to become a lawyer like him. Apparently she moved to Chicago and became a secretary despite her education. If I'm not mistaken, this is the first time she's been back in five years."

Sandra tuned out the droning of her husband's voice as she concentrated on the men across from her. Unbidden images of a naked James towering over her, his cock inches from her hungry mouth popped into her mind. Her tongue swiped her lips at the remembered taste of his cum he'd commanded her to swallow. Her pussy suddenley spasmed and she knew she needed more than just a tongue thrusting deeply inside.

Oh god James, why did you have to leave? Sandra whispered forlornly to herself.

****

Liam eyed the latest object of his brother's normally fickle attention. He saw a tall woman, uncomfortable with her body, who used physical unattractiveness as a shield for her own deep-seated insecurities. What he didn't see was the sexual fire James swore she had.

Shaking his head at his brother's strange tendencies, he slid his eyes over to the much more tempting form of his step-mother Sandra. She had a hungry look on her pretty face and he knew she hungered for cock. 

It was no secret to him that she merely used him as a stand in for James. Bearing no ill will toward his older brother, Liam was content to take what he could get. Despite the love he bore his father, if Sandra flashed her well-kept pussy at him, he'd even step over Henry's dead body to get to it. The cream that flowed between her thighs was such an aphrodisaic he would kill for it.

"Boy, you better stop looking at her like that if you want to keep the affair secret." 

He turned back to James with a sheepish smile.

"I know, but God damn. How can you keep away from her?"

James chuckled then clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"Brother, you are more than welcome to her. She's a maneater."

"I know," he dreamily replied. "Remember that time when she took both of us? You got her ass while I had her lovely pussy? I know she'd be up for another go-round if you're interested."

James shifted briefly, as if adjusting his pants. Liam didn't blame him as that night was still burned into his memory. 

It was that night when he discovered his revered older brother had been cuckolding their father behind his back. He'd come back from the bar early, discouraged by the lack of new women, and stumbled across them fucking in the living room.

Sandra had been draped across the back of their lowslung leather couch, her white legs a sharp contrast against the buttery tan. James was standing behind her, holding her hips as he shoved his cock deep into the folds of her pussy.

She had been grunting and groaning, imploring James to fuck her harder, deeper. Liam stood shocked in the doorway, his penis growing incredibly hard as he watched them, wishing he could join. At that moment, she ceased to be his father's wife and became just a pussy to be fucked.

James looked up and saw him, never ceasing his rhythm, and asked "do you want a piece of this whore?"

Liam could tell the words were a lash across Sandra's sensibilities, spurring her to even greater pleasure. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her mouth wide open with pleasure. Overcome with the eroticism of the moment, Liam unzipped and pulled his dick out.

"See how excited you made him? I want you to crawl over to him and take his cock into your mouth."

With a slimey pop, James pulled out of her pussy and stepped back so she could do as he commanded. Sandra immediately dropped to all fours and crawled over to the threshhold where he stood. Without demur, she began licking the head and slowly sucking it further into her mouth.

"No. I said take it in." James strode over and pushed her head farther down on Liam, uncaring that she made choking sounds. Liam felt his cock hit the back of her throat and nearly came then and there. After a brief moment, Sandra adjusted and resumed sucking.

James pulled the condom off his own dick and began gently masturbating it while he watched. "That's a good little slut. See, Liam, what a slut our father married? She likes it anyway she can get it." The slurping sounds and her bobbing head seconded that motion.

Until tonight, Liam had never pictured his step-mother in any light but that of bubble-headed trophy wife. Sure, she was hot, but he also knew completely off-limits. Leave it to his brother to find the on-switch.

James, seeming to understand how close to orgasm he was, commanded Sandra to cease, but remain on all fours. She promptly obeyed him, but looked at him pleadingly over her shoulder. A truly wicked grin creased his lean face and he glanced at Liam.

"She tells me she's never had it in the ass. I'm going to leave it to you to prove her right or wrong."

"James -- no" was her whining cry.

His older brother merely fixed her with a stern eye and she subsided. Liam could smell the excited secretions of her pussy and understood this was a game they were playing. He was supposed to be the man who took the woman's ass cherry against her will. However, he knew he couldn't do it. He'd never done a woman in the ass and didn't think he should try with him so close to shooting off.

With a helpless look, he glanced at James. Raising an eyebrow, he shrugged then merely waved him to the floor. Unsure of the direction his brother was going now, Liam stood there, his glistening dick still hanging out, fully clothed, in direct contrast to their naked bodies.

His brother came over, took Liam's dick in his right hand and gently rolled a condom on while patting his ass with the left. He immediately understood and laid down, waiting for Sandra to crawl over him.

A quick slap to her bared ass and she quickly complied. A glance at her face showed a hint of panic as she didn't understand exactly what was going on.

"Darling slut, tonight's your lucky night. You'll get both Ryan boys in your glory holes."

James took some of her cream and spread it around her asshole and slicked the tight passage with his finger. Guiding her, he pressured her onto Liam until he was seated in her to his balls. Quickly grabbing another condom and putting it on, he parted her ass cheeks and slowly pushed his way inside.

Liam nearly came then and there when he felt the intense squeezing as a result of her body's natural adjustment to two cocks separately by thin skin and a ring of muscles. He felt her clench when James was completely in.

"Liam, just know to pull out when I push in. Pretend she's a see saw."

Within moments they both had a rhythm that set her to bouncing between them. The brothers locked eyes and fucked her raw; at this point neither cared about her, only the animalistic release just hovering out of reach.

With a yell, Liam felt his ballsack tighten up into the most powerful orgasm of his life. He watched with pleasure as his brother followed a few seconds later. Sandra, for the most part forgotten, shuddered and came as well.

Liam shook his head to free himself from the memories and glanced back at James. 

"Still game, brother?"



Sparking Ch. 03



I stood silently next to my mother as yet another unidentified relative came up, faux tears dripping into a dry hanky, insincere platitudes wreathing my mother. I couldn't understand how she was able to withstand it. More than one woman in this room had probably slept with my father during their 35-year marriage and everyone knew it. They all wanted to see how my mother would handle herself.

It was an open secret my parents hadn't shared a bed nearly as long as I've been alive. The reason behind the separate bedrooms was probably the only thing the gossips in this town didn't know. There were plenty of theories, but none were ever proven.

The tension vibrating through my mother transmitted itself to me and I put a hand to her shoulder. I felt the immediate withdrawal, though her body didn't move an inch. It had always been this way. Mother, never Mom or Mama, could never bring herself to embrace me as I'd seen other women do for their children. She wasn't the type to kiss booboos or bake cookies to make me feel better. 

No, instead, it'd been my father I'd run to for everything. He'd been the one to buy my first tampon, the one who held me after my first broken heart, and the one who'd told me I could do anything. Of course, as I grew older and began making noises about wanting to be something other than a lawyer, the teeth behind the previously sheepish wolf smile came out.

By the time I was 18, I was persona non grata in my own home. Neither parent was willing to love me unconditionally, so I decided to make my own way. My grades were tip top and so I got into the university of my choice with a full ride, with no need to ask for anything from them.

I believe it was my need for a loving person in my life that led me to Barry. Oh, god, Barry. His name probably conjures up images of a nervous balding suited man who works for the IRS. In reality, he'd been a fun-loving rogue with an impish smile and dangerous fingers. He swept me off my big feet and into his impossibly large bed. 

We'd met through my boss; by that time I'd graduated with a Masters in Linguistic (my way of sticking it to my father) and discovered no one needed an overly educated English major with no real desire to enter that particular world.

I'd answered an ad in the paper for an executive assistant and was with the ad company for nearly three years when Barry became our client.

You've probably heard the ad line "Diapers that only babies could love." It was cheesy, but Furbur Baby's Diapers loved it and so my boss Mr. Browning became their adman. Barry was the go to guy and man, did I go to him.

Within weeks of meeting him at the office, I found myself ensconced in his bed, his new beck and call girl. Of course looking back at it now, I can understand the motive. Despite my education, I was sadly lacking in the male companionship department. I was ripe for the picking and desperately hungry for someone, anyone, to notice me beyond, "Penny get me some coffee" or "Penny, bring me the Liederman file."

I had spent a fortune in intimate toys, so I wasn't completely naive, I just didn't have the experience necessary. Barry took my virginity (though not the hymen for I'd lost that to a 9 inch dildo some years before) in a rush of passion after an especially intense negotiation for his company. 

We'd met for a late "working" dinner that night and an hour later I found myself lying face down on his comforter, my arms tied behind my back with my lacy stockings and my panties stuffed in my mouth.

I can still feel his hands, brutal against my skin, as he bent me over the bed and slapped my ass. When I whimpered, he allowed his greater body weight to push me down into the soft confines of his bed. He bit me hard on the shoulder, telling me "stay still when I tell you to."

Having never allowed any man to dominate me since my father, I was surprised by the rush of pleasure that coursed through my body originating from the bite mark. I could sense his satisfaction as he slid his thick cock into my very slick passage. Due to many years of ramming myself with anything faintly phallic, there was only minimal discomfort at his invasion. He fucked as if he were a starving man given a feast.

That first time I had no pleasure as he told me later after his roaring come, I was his bitch and would only get it when he allowed me to. He laughed as I squirmed beside him, my pussy hungry for the denied orgasm. When I begged for it, he asked if I'd do anything. At my consent, he kneeled over me and forced my lips back so he could plunge his hard cock into my mouth. He face-fucked me for a while before letting me finally up for air.

After several minutes of taunting me by sliding up and down my streaming pussy, he finally fucked me into oblivion. I came so hard I bit my lip bloody. He licked up the blood with a strange light in his eyes and we both knew my body belonged to him.

For 6 glorious months, I was in heaven, imaging our affair would extend indefinitely, perhaps even into something more permanent.

Of course I ignored the small voices that pointed out he never took me places people we know would see us together nor did he introduce me to anyone of importance (i.e. his friends or family). We hid our passion for one another because "what we had was special and couldn't be shared with the outside world yet." I, being the stupid fool I was, swallowed that hook line and sinker until the day I went to an office meeting and met Mrs. Barry.

She was exactly the opposite of me. A slim athletic heiress whose daddy owned the company Barry worked for. She had him by the balls and everyone knew it; once her father died, they'd be entitled to a multi-million dollar company. What is sex compared to the lure of cold hard coin?

When I confronted him, he'd smiled and gently patted my shoulder. He was genuinely surprised by my aspirations, especially given I wasn't exactly gifted in the looks department. When I asked, "why me?" he responded "because you let me fuck you in ways a real lady wouldn't."

Fortunately my upbringing in a cold emotionless house served me well. He may have scorched my pride and made me question my sexuality, but damn if I'd let him know that! Of course, I couldn't let him off lightly so I kicked him where he would hurt the most -- his bank account. Despite the embarrassment knowing what a fool I'd been, I revealed our affair to his wife, complete with pictures he talked me into letting him take.

The shot of his tongue buried deep in my ass (he'd rigged a camera to hang down from the ceiling) was the clincher I think. Of course, I suspect it was also the fact she's an incredibly sexy and good looking woman and he cheated on her with me.

For her it was probably the similar feeling Elizabeth Hurley had when Hugh Grant cheated with the prostitute Divine Brown. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not dog-ugly or anything, but I'm just another one of those faceless, nameless women you see every day and forget before you even turn away.

Fortunately, the details of their marriage's decline weren't known by many. I know Mr. Browning was suspicious of the late hours I spent "working" with Barry, but he never said anything and I was able to retain my job, if not my dignity.

I shook my head to loose those bad memories and turned my eyes to the rest of the room. Despite my father's success as an attorney, my family didn't live high on the hog. As a result, the living room was of a modest size and couldn't hold the many that came. 

A hand to my forearm brought back a vivid memory of the stranger who'd touched me earlier. I wondered briefly who he was, but erased that thought immediately as I knew it wasn't the time or place. The images from my prior encounter would be fodder for my ever hungry pussy. I glanced at my mother, unnerved by her touch, but willingly following her lead.

I looked up into the laughing green eyes of the stranger.



Sparking Ch. 04



James ignored his partner's widow momentarily to focus on her daughter. The shy Sub was back in her gaze smiling at him with coy invitation. He knew Penny didn't understand the vibes she was sending out, but damned if the Dom in him didn't demand he take her up on the offer. However, common sense forbade him from making a move on her while her father laid in his grave a mere four hours.

"Mr. Ryan, I'd like you to meet Penny."

He nodded politely, though privately seething at the note of hostility Mary held in her voice. He noticed she didn't even introduce Penny in a familial way; if he didn't know their connection, she could've been a servant for all the care Mary took.

"Hello, sir." The instinctive lowering of her lashes told James that Penny was a natural, if untrained. Her body, stiff against the cold side of her mother, softened in supplication to his arrival.

His nostrils flared as he sought to draw in every molecule of her scent. His body hardened impossibly, the zipper biting deeply into his straining cock. He silently thanked his foresight of wearing the longer suit jacket. 

"We met for a moment outside, Mary."

James picked up the small carry on she'd left outside in her haste and dangled it from his fingers.

"I believe this suitcase is yours." 

Mary harrumphed and grabbed the bag from his hand before Penny could reach out. Silently he cursed the older woman, as he wanted to feel Penny's skin against his own, even for a moment.

"Thanks, Mr. Ryan. I didn't even notice I had left it behind."

"I'm sure you had other things on your mind." He wondered if she noticed the slight emphasis he'd placed on his words. Judging by her flustered response, he gathered she had.

The widening of her eyes and the hint of rose that filled her pale cheeks fascinated him. So far he'd seen several sides: a lusty unabashed woman, a stiff cold mannequin, a shy untrained sub, and now an embarrassed virgin. 

He wondered which woman he would meet if he managed to get past the many buttons that guarded her lower extremities. He had never thought much about a woman's clothing before, but the dark ankle-length skirt was too constricting and impeded his view. He wondered if she wore panties or if bare flesh waited beneath. He hoped she wore nothing beneath the gray woolen and how he would love to lick up the trailing juices that turned her thighs creamy.

The slight cough caught in Mary's throat diverted his attention for a moment, as it was meant to, he knew. The disapproving look in the back of her eyes told him it was time to depart.

"Mary, I'm so sorry for your loss. I want you to know, I cared deeply for John and felt he taught me a lot." James had to keep the memories of the many many things John had taught him from showing on his face. "When you are strong enough, we will arrange the reading of the will."

"Reading of the will? What are you talking about?"

Mary's sharp question brought his attention back to her face (he hoped she hadn't noticed he was staring at her daughter again like a fool -- no scratch that, he hoped the daughter didn't notice that).

"Yes, the will. Pretty standard division of property and whatnot between you and Penny." Concern flowed through him, momentarily blocking the lustful direction in which he had wandered. She looked pretty apoplectic for someone recently widowed.

"I didn't realize John left a will."

He exchanged glances with Penny, both made uneasy by the virulent hatred evident in her voice.

"Mother -" Penny attempted to interject before Mary, previously known to all as a small quiet brown wren, turned on her with spittle flying from her mouth.

"You have no right to calling me by that name! How I've hated hearing you say that."

James took a step closer and wrapped his arms around Mary to prevent her from launching herself at the younger and sturdier woman. Noting they'd attracted the attention of nearly everyone in the room, he managed a weak smile and hustled his armload into the connected kitchen. 

Fortunately the room was empty and he was able wrestle Mary outside before letting go. She turned on him with fury; her arms and legs wind milling as she tried to kick him in every place she could reach. However, his 6'4" frame was much taller than her 5'1" height and she could only kick him in the shins.

"What the hell was that Mother? For a woman who hates scenes you picked a hell of a time to make one."

James breathed easier as he realized Penny had followed them out.

Mary narrowed her eyes and stabbed a finger in her daughter's direction.

"When he brought you into my house and made me claim you as mine, he promised I would be rewarded in the end. He promised I wouldn't have to share my house with you as soon as you were old enough to leave. Well, you're 32 and there's no way in hell I'm letting you have my house!"

Shock and complete pain emptied Penny's face as the words slapped her with the force of complete truth. In the silence, James could hear a slight tinkling sound and wondered if it were her heart.

Mary smiled with cruel triumph.

"Ah, so he never told you, did he? He fucked some silly waitress and you were the result. The fucking whore decided she didn't want you and left you on the doorstep with a note stating John had made you so he could take care of you."

The harsh laughter that followed the stunning statement was part satisfaction, part malice, and deeply held resentment.

"That's why he named you Penny. He said you were like a bad penny that turned up."

At that last cruelty, James wanted to punch Mary in the face. Despite his closeness with John, the other man had never shared the secret of Penny's arrival and so he couldn't refute any of her statements. However, knowing John's deep love for his daughter (despite the strained relationship they shared), James knew he would never have named her as Mary claimed.

Looking at Penny made his heart hurt. The terrible emptiness that shadowed her eyes made him wish he could take back the last several minutes. He'd mentioned the will more out of preserving his dignity, not with the intent of blowing this shaky house of cards.

Then suddenly the light returned to her eyes and she straightened. Drawing her tattered soul back to her, Penny looked at Mary and replied, "No, he named me Penelope after the woman who remained faithful and true despite all the tribulations she suffered at the hands of her persecutors. She found a way to outsmart them and held on to everything her husband left behind."

Raising her eyebrows with disdain, Penny, no, Penelope a small voice whispered, nodded at him briefly then turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen.

In that moment, Henry James Ryan, Jr. swore to whatever force in the universe listening that she would belong to him someday.



Sparking Ch. 05



Liam noticed his brother hustling Mrs. Hardy into the kitchen, but was unaware of the unfolding drama. His entire attention was on his stepmother. She was staring at him; her sexual intent evident upon her face had anyone looked at her. Fortunately for them both, no one noticed.

Sandra beckoned him with three fingers, their agreed upon signal. He knew she would slip away and expect him to follow in thirteen minutes (he never understood why it had to be thirteen, but she was insistent on this point). 

Swallowing the shit-eating grin he knew would give him away, he swirled his drink and pretended to be contemplating the vagaries of death instead of the life-affirming force of sexual release awaiting him.

Just when he thought he would explode at time for dragging on so slowly, the hands of the clock told him it was time for his assignation. Slowly wending his way through the anticipatory crowd (what exactly was going on?), he slipped out the front door.  He knew she wouldn't want to go back into the backyard again, so he wracked his brain as to what place Sandra would most likely be.

Seeing his father's large silver Chevy truck parked across the street, he leered appreciatively. Knowing Sandra's bend towards kink, he figured she was laying spread eagle in the back seat, playing with her clit, letting her juices soak into the fabric. There was nothing more of a guaranteed turn on for her then knowing they were fucking in place his father would use every day. 

He still remembered the scorching sex they had a few weeks ago in Sandra's marital bed, minutes before his father was due home. She'd made him pull out of her ass before he was ready to come and masturbate against his father's pillow. When he was on the verge, she'd directed him to spurt his come onto her breasts and face, and then she'd rubbed it into her skin before dressing. He wondered if his father had tasted his cum when he kissed his naughty wife upon his return. 

Sure enough, as he neared the truck he could hear faint rustling noises and a soft mewing. He fumbled underneath for the spare key and sighed when his questing fingers felt the square box. Unlocking the door he found Sandra lying on her back as he imagined, skirt shoved far above her waist, one hand working her clit, the other pushing in and out of her sopping hole.

"Liam, 'bout fucking time!"

"No Sandra," he corrected softly, "it's time for fucking." She glared up at him then grudgingly laughed at his witticism. 

She didn't even bother undressing him, but merely unzipped his pants and shoved them down far enough so his cock could pop out. His standing position was at a perfect angle for her mouth, so she flipped over and crawled to him. Hungrily she attacked it with her mouth, sucking strongly until the tip hit the back of her throat, a special trick he still loved after all this time.

"Fuck, Sandra, I didn't even close the door! Anyone could see us."

She raised her head from his dick and shrugged eloquently. He knew she was daring him to fuck her where anyone passing by would be able to tell what they were doing. Lately she'd gotten bolder and bolder, wanting him to fuck her from behind while his father was in the other room or jacking him off under the table when the family sat at Sunday dinner.

When she lightly scratched his balls with her fingernails, he knew he was lost. Feeling a need to somewhat control this situation, he grabbed her hair and twisted the long blonde strands until he controlled her movements.

"Hmn, handlebars."

He pulled her hair a little as he eased into a more comfortable position for her to suck him thoroughly. Deciding she needed a little punishment for teasing him so, he forcefully fucked her face, knowing her lips were being stretched most uncomfortably around his large girth. While James definitely had length on him, Liam knew his cock was a lot fatter.

Just the thought of his brother watching as he fucked their slut nearly made him cream right then and there. Deciding he wanted more than her mouth, he eased out then slapped her lightly across the cheek to let her know he wanted her attention.

She reluctantly opened her blue eyes as he roughly whispered, "present your ass, slut, and you better hold your cheeks wide open for me. If you don't, then I won't be nice enough to lube you up."

A grimace crossed her face as she remembered the time she'd teased him too much and he fucked her ass raw. He'd come all over her back and then walked away until she came crawling on all fours with her mouth open begging for more.

Excitement made her body tremble and Liam smiled cruelly as he hooked two fingers deep in her pussy and set up a punishing finger banging he knew she desperately wanted. Just when he felt her on the edge, he withdrew his fingers and swirled them in his mouth, tasting her juice.

The glare she gave him over her shoulder should've melted his ball hairs, but he raised an eyebrow, the gesture so like his older brother she caught her breath. She put her weight on her shoulders in order to leverage herself enough to open her ass the way she knew he liked.

Liam bent over a little and sniffed her fragrant asshole. He loved the slightly musky salty smell mixed with the sweeter scent of her pussy. Licking her asshole had her jumping because he'd never done that before. Judging by her pushing back, Liam figured she liked it.

Dipping his head further, he gathered some of the cream dripping down the back of her thighs with his curled tongue and eased it deep into her dark rosebud, ensuring he had a smooth passage. Deciding against using his own spit, he played with her clit for a moment then used that lubrication to grease up his cock.

"Sit up, I'm coming in." He hopped into the back seat, forcing her to move over. He pushed his jeans down to his ankles for more mobility.

Sandra was too far-gone to protest, just desperately grunting for the thick meat pole to violate her asshole. She needed him to fuck her hard and long, hopefully to assuage the emptiness she felt deep inside.

Using his superior upper body strength, Liam raised her above his body and then eased her down onto his fuckstick. She nearly screamed as he slowly reamed her asshole, his girth stretching her unbearably in this seated position. 

Liam groaned when he was fully inserted into her. They'd been having enough anal sex now that she wasn't as tight as before. This was a good thing as it allowed him to fuck her like this more comfortably. Knowing he wouldn't last long there (he never did), he grabbed her hips and began pumping slowly. 

As he established his rhythm, he felt her ass muscles clench whenever he moved. Feeling charitable, he put four fingers deep into her gaping pussy. Sandra immediately went wild, screaming, "Fuck me, you fucking pervert. Pretend this is your brother's asshole. Fuck me like your daddy can't. Fuck me like the slut I am!"

Hearing those taboo words (how'd she guess he often fantasized about fucking James or being fucked by him?), threw him over the edge and he ground her down on him as his throbbing cock exploded deep in her depths.



Sparking Ch. 06



I ignored the many faces turned to me in rabid interest of the incredibly horrifying scene my mother -- no not mother, but caretaker -- made moments earlier.

Shards of my life that never fit together finally made sense. I understood why they slept in separate rooms -- Mary never could forgive him his indiscretion and sought to punish him. 

Every child has a sixth sense about the moods of the adults that make up their world -- I always knew "Mother" wasn't to be bothered by any of my problems. I also remember hearing stories about how my birth rendered her unable to conceive again; that was part of her pain. Some other woman had given my father a child and how it must've knifed her seeing me every day. Whatever troubles she had conceiving might've been repaired had it not been for me.

I blindly walked out the front door, no destination in mind. Where does one go when the very foundations of the world have so thoroughly destroyed?

I hadn't realized until she stripped the blinders from my eyes, how much I had identified myself as Penelope Elizabeth Hardy, daughter to John and Mary Hardy. Now I felt as if I was floating free of any tethers. The pain Barry dealt me with his perfidy was nothing compared to this. I know now he hurt my pride, but never touched the inner core of emotions.

Though I'd been absent from this area for five years, my feet knew exactly where to take me. I looked up in shock as I realized I had walked three miles from my childhood house to the bar on the fringes of town.

The Black Stallion, a seemingly noble name, was a roughneck bar where no sane woman ventured without mace, a battalion of guards, and a metal chastity belt. I knew I would get into trouble as soon as I walked through those double glass doors. Yet, at this moment, I would've welcomed the heated embrace of the Dark Angel himself if it would've brought oblivion.

****

James looked at Mary with as much disdain as her disavowed daughter.

"Was that necessary? She just lost her father today, did you really need to strip her of her mother as well?"

Mary's mouth pursed as if she'd bitten into something rotten.

"Oh, don't give me that 'butter won't melt in my mouth' look Mr. Ryan. I know the escapades you got into with my husband, may his soul rot in hell!"

James grinned, his bared teeth looking extremely white and sharp in the reflected light of the back porch lamp. 

"Now I understand why John fucked as many women as he did. If I were he and had you to come home to, I would've split any pussy that came within 10 feet of me. Oh wait, he did."

A hard look came into her eyes, her soul shriveled and gone from years of festering hatred and scorn.

"I know you liked to share women with him. I wonder if you'll share his daughter too." 

A harsh laugh escaped at his surprised look. 

"Oh, what, John didn't brag to you about the nights he would spend with her while I waited for him? Penny, his precious baby girl, needed him. Well, so did I!"

John shook his head at her debased accusations. While John may have fucked his way through half of this town, he'd bet his last dollar, nay his soul, that nothing but pure love ever entered his heart towards Penelope.

"Well, just so you know, John left you the house." When he first learned of the conditions of the will, he wondered at his partner's specifications. Now James understood. "Everything else goes to Penelope, including the land the house was built on."

Leaving Mary sputtering behind him, James followed the path Penelope blazed a few minutes before.

****

Hell, even here I couldn't find what I was looking for. After all the stories I'd ever heard about this place, I figured I would open the doors and find Sodom & Gomorrah returned at last.

Instead I found a dive bar with bad lighting, poor music, crappy drinks, and enough smoke in the air to kill off a third world nation. Not to mention some of the most hideous looking waitresses I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.

As I sat at the bar, contemplating whether or not to drink the rum and coke I'd ordered (the glass looked as if it hadn't been washed since 1953), I heard heavy footsteps thudding across the wooden floor. Deciding I wasn't feeling so bad I would take my life in hand by drinking it, I swiveled my head and stared into the deep green eyes of Mr. Ryan.

In spite of the circumstances I found myself in, and the fact I'd only known him a short while, my lips curved upward into a half grin. Perhaps he would be willing to help me find the trouble I came looking for and had yet to find. 

I carefully placed the glass back on the bar in front of me so I could fully turn to face him. There was a presence about him that drew me and I wondered at its power. I quelled the urge to lick my lips and instead murmured,

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk into mine."

****

Oh god, here she is again.

The impish smile she bestowed upon him scrambled his brains and shot straight to his groin. The sub part of her personality was peeking out again and he desperately wanted to capture that elusive woman. They'd only exchanged a dozen words and glances, yet there was a powerful lure that drew him to her.

"Bogart fan, eh?" The words were from a distant part of his brain that somehow worked despite the reverse flow of blood.

She shrugged one shoulder and flipped her pale brown hair out of her eyes with a head toss. He wondered when her hair had fallen from its bun then immediately dismissed the thought as irrelevant. The most important question was how fast could he convince her she belonged in his bed tonight?

Whoa, cowboy. She just lost her father and now her mother. Her world is upside down. Tomorrow is a better time to fuck.

"It seemed appropriate to say at your unexpected appearance."

He nodded thoughtfully then leaned closer to her, as if imparting a secret. James nearly chuckled with glee when she instinctively mirrored his pose and leaned in closer as well. Though he was still taller than she was sitting, his position brought their lips within touching distance.

Deciding to take her slowly, James allowed his breath to caress her sensitive lower lip and slip into her half-opened mouth. Ignoring the clamoring demands of his lower body, he whispered, "I always thought Rick was a fool for letting Elsa go. If she'd been my woman, I would've fought for her no matter what."

Leaning back, he nonchalantly raised his arm to signal the bartender behind her, hoping she wouldn't notice the quivering of his thighs.

****

I swallowed hard as I processed his words. I looked at him, really looked at him, and realized I didn't doubt him at all. His brown hair (several shades darker than my own) was attractively disheveled, a state reached only with an expensive haircut. How I longed to run my fingers through that thick mass and clutch him to me with gasping passion. 

Blushing slightly at the direction of my thoughts, I tried to draw the focus away from my lust and back to more practical matters.

"How did you find me? I didn't even know I was coming this way until I got here."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned. Ordinarily I would never thought I'd be attracted by a man's wrinkles, but they were expressive and showed he liked to smile and laugh. A happy man.

"Pure chance. A couple sitting outside in their truck saw you walking away and so I followed. I hoped to talk to you about your father's will."

Any pleasure I derived from his presence immediately drained. I hadn't forgotten my father's corpse lying beneath 6 feet of loam, but I had wanted a mental vacation from the scene I left behind. The will. 

I harrumphed. He glanced at me questioningly, but I shook my head to indicate disavowal of my action. I wasn't ready to speak about what he witnessed. A shadow of Barry taunted me with the knowledge Mr. Ryan hadn't sought me out for personal reasons, but merely for business.

Shaking myself clear of any fancy he was actually interested in me as anything beyond his partner's daughter, I allowed that bright hope to fade quietly. At heart, I am a realist and understood no matter how much I wanted to hide my head in the sand this particular problem wouldn't be solved in that manner.

"I never envisioned this conversation taking place in a dive place like this, but hear me out Penelope."

I was pleasantly surprised by his use of my full name. I cannot remember the last time someone called me anything beyond "Penny." It pleased me that he took my parting words to Mary to heart and called me by my true name. I refused to believe her lies about the origin of it.

"I will skip over all the legal jargon and cut to the heart of it. Your father wanted to ensure your future would be protected and thus left you all of his worldly assets except for the house in which Mary --" here his nose rippled as if he smelled something exceedingly sour "-- claims."

Stunned, I stared at his chest, only now belatedly noticing his black and white skull and cross-bone tie. I laughed disbelievingly; here I was being told I was an heiress and I couldn't get past the fact he wore a tie like that to a funeral. It certainly was appropriate, but still.

"Why did he leave anything to me? He was so angry with me." I idly wondered aloud, not truly expecting a response. I knew my father did well in his practice, but he was a frugal man, no doubt the result of his hardscrabble life as a child.

"Whatever issues were between you two, he did love you."

I must've made a face because Mr. Ryan placed both his hands upon my cheeks and drew my head in close.

"He never said what caused the rift between you, but he missed you terribly."

It was strange to hear this, as my father had never struck me as the sentimental type. For a moment a part of me resented that this stranger has known parts of Dad I never saw. I could've sworn he was serious when he cast me from his family tree because I wouldn't conform to his idea of the "perfect" daughter.

"Yah, well, I'm surprised he left me more than a spit in the hand." I must admit curiosity had me by the tail. Exactly how much was the old man going to give me?

Mr. Ryan's response had me choking and I would've toppled off my barstool had he not grabbed at me. I pretended not to notice his hand brushed against my breasts as he released the death grip on my shoulders.

"Those are only the investments. It doesn't include the liquid assets. In fact, the land the house is built upon is worth quite a considerable sum as well."

Here my brain stopped as I tried to compute his last comment.

"What do you mean the land the house is built on? I thought he left it to her."

Mr. Ryan smiled as if he were a cat lapping at cream (oh god, wrong image to think of). "He left her the house. Not the land. So if you were to do something to the land, the house would be in the way."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Not if you have the right kind of lawyer."

We grinned at each other with perfect understanding. I was still lost in this world, but it felt good to have someone in my corner.

****

Even if it were only for a moment, James felt good to have brought a smile to her face. He knew this wouldn't be an easy transition for her, as everything she ever knew was completely gone. In some ways she was like a survivor of a bad earthquake or a tsunami; he was interested to see how she would pick up the pieces.



Sparking Ch. 07



I nestled into the leather passenger seat with a small sigh of contentment. How Mr. Ryan talked me into coming home with him I don't know. I definitely didn't want to return to the scene of my humiliation nor did I have a reservation at any of the local motels. He gallantly extended the use of his guest bedroom: "After all, how could I call myself a gentleman if I didn't shelter my late partner's daughter?" 

Looking at the interior of his sports car (what model I couldn't tell in the dark, but expensive nonetheless), I began to understand I did not know my father's life as well as I thought I did. Does every child, upon discovering new truths about his or her parents' lives, not feel bewildered and lost? I now understand poor Alice's confusion when she fell down the rabbit hole.

I turned my head when the driver side door opened. I was mesmerized by the smile on Mr. Ryan's face as he slid into the seat. I wondered if his lips could possibly be as soft as they looked; how desperately I wanted to touch them. Taste them.

"I saw you didn't touch any of the food at the wake. Are you hungry? Would you like to stop somewhere?"

His words shattered my lustful haze. I was grateful he had closed the door because he wouldn't be able to see my red face. Here I was thinking about sex and he thought about the other hunger.

"Uh…not really. I'm jetlagged and tired."

He chuckled, the rich sound filling the space between us. Though I'd only known him a few hours, I could tell it wasn't meant to be cruel. He understood the reasoning behind my statement and concurred. 

"Well, relax and I'll have you home soon."

He turned the ignition and the engine purred to life. I hid a quick smile as he seemingly caressed the steering wheel; obviously this car was a female. Glancing over his shoulder, Mr. Ryan carefully backed out.

***

James glanced at his passenger thoughtfully. During the short fifteen-minute ride to his house, Penelope hadn't spoken a word. He knew she wasn't crying, as her face didn't shine with tears beneath the passing lights outside the window. 

"Here we are, Penelope. Home sweet home."

He looked at the porch with it's welcoming light and all his cares seemed to lighten. Despite the strong emotions of the day, he knew once he walked through that door he was truly in control of his world.

The rustling of his passenger brought his attention back to her. 

Fuck, I want to be in control of her!

His penis, semi-hard through the drive, reared its ugly head and James desperately wanted to unzip his pants. He knew her pouty lips would feel heavenly as he thrust in and out of her mouth, saliva easing the passage as she slobbered over him. 

"Mr. Ryan?"

He heard the questioning note in her voice and wondered how long she'd been trying to grab his attention. Opening his door, he stretched for a moment then looked at Penelope over the roof of his car.

"Sorry, it's been a long day for me too."

She shyly smiled.

"I just asked if you still had my suitcase?"

A chuckle escaped as he thought about the erstwhile case she kept leaving behind. Fortunately for her, he'd had the presence of mind to grab it before leaving the house.

"Yes."

Her smile bloomed and he felt something in his chest tighten.

Leading the way up the sidewalk after retrieving the luggage from his trunk, James inserted his house key into the front door. Once inside, he flipped a light and motioned her to follow him through the living room and up the stairs.

"This," he pointed to a door at the top of the stairs, "is the guest bedroom. That is your bathroom."

Penelope nodded, the smile sliding from her face as weariness set in. James marveled at her composure and had to stifle his curiosity. He wanted to ask exactly what caused the rift between her and John, but refrained from asking. 

Barely. 

Frustration ate at him momentarily as he contemplated the wasted years he could've had training her. 'If onlys,' however, were a luxury he rarely indulged in, so he cast it from his mind. It didn't matter the whys or whens, but the now. And she was in his house now.

"Down the hall is my room. Please don't hesitate to knock on my door if you need anything." Anything, a sly voice whispered.

"Right now I just need sleep. I want you to know how much I appreciate this, Mr. Ryan."

Nodding, desperately hoping she couldn't read the lusty bent of his thoughts, James cleared his throat. 

"Please, James. My father is Mr. Ryan."

They shared another smile then he wished her a good night.

***

I knew as I lay on the bed I wouldn't sleep.

The sorrow from my father's death and my fake mother's defection combined with pussy clenching lust did not make for a peaceful mind. I was beginning to worry there was something seriously wrong with me as I couldn't cry. I wanted to cry, wail, gnash my teeth and bare my breasts, but there was a blockage preventing me from doing so. Despite our problems, I loved my father dearly and it hurt I couldn't even summon a crocodile tear for him.

Sighing, I flipped onto my back and turned my head towards the door. How I wished I could slip from the bed and make my way down the hall towards him. I only knew him a few hours, but at this point I was willing to try anything to take my mind off my situation.

As if you want him just for a distraction.

Is it possible to hate a voice only you can hear? Of course, it was the unvarnished truth, but that's beside the point. I cannot think of worse timing then hours after a disastrous wake to entertain lusty thoughts about a man.

What do you think he's wearing?

Seriously, the voice in my head is like a teenager mooning over the high school quarterback. As if it matters what he's wearing to bed; he's probably asleep, not having conversations with imaginary voices. More than likely he's dreaming about tall Nordic blondes who are fighting over him because he's so hot…

Their supple lean bodies curve and twist, fingernails flying as they try to rip each other's clothes off. Grunts and screams of fury rent the air until one is able to dominate the other. Sitting on top of her rival, the winner grins at him, her hair in disarray with small scratches showing through the gaps in her clothing. He strides to her side and pushes her flat on her back, ignoring the loser. He spreads her legs wide and gently licks up her thighs until he reaches the apex. 

He chides her with a "tsk, tsk" when he notices she isn't wearing any underwear beneath her tight mini-skirt. She lies there in sheer bliss as he bends his head again and starts swirling his tongue in her pussy…

A groan slipped from my mouth as my previously catty fantasy turned into an all out raunch fest. What was it about this guy that turned me on so?

***

James cursed himself even as he continued to tiptoe towards Penelope's door. He didn't understand himself at all. This wasn't the first sub woman he'd been attracted to nor would she be the last. He was a very sexual man who demanded a lot from the woman in his bed. He very much doubted a shy untrained sub like her would interest him for long.

If that's so, why are you standing outside her door like a jackass?

He really hated the snide voice in his head, especially when it pointed out the truth. Shaking his head, he turned to go back to his room when he heard a small sound. Immediately his sexual thoughts dissolved as he realized she was finally shedding the tears he sensed she held back. He was torn between staying and finding out if she wanted company or giving her privacy.

The unlocked door that opened with a slight push (he accidentally brushed against) decided him. He should stay and comfort her.

Or not.

James looked at the woman splayed on the bed, her eyes closed, one hand frigging her pussy and the other pinching her cloth-covered nipples.

***

I watched with my mind's eye as James fucked the winning blonde, neither caring about the poor loser who was trapped beneath their thrusting hips. I enjoyed her humiliation as she felt his cock brushing against her bare buttocks, but unable to do anything about it.

A warm hand brushed against my stomach and I languidly opened my eyes. There was enough moonlight coming through the window for me to see it was James bent over the bed, his green eyes burning with lust. I dreamily smiled.

"What are you doing here?"

"Comforting you."

I nodded. 

"I'm very sad you know."

He chuckled, the throaty sound warming my soul. 

"I can tell. Need help?"

I pondered this for a moment. Did I need help from the very man I was fantasizing about? If the voice in my head had feet, it would've kicked me square in the eyes.

"I was thinking about you and this blonde fucking. She fought another woman for you and you were rewarding her."

Surprise suffused his face for a second before wicked delight replaced it.

James captured the hand I was using to masturbate and brought the fingers to his lips. He carefully sucked each fingertip into his mouth and tasted my lust. I panted and squirmed, the motion causing goose bumps to ripple down my arms.

"Cold? Might help if you take your night shirt off."

Right now would've been a perfect moment for the voice to point out taking my shirt off wouldn't warm me up, but it was acquiescent to his suggestion.

He helped me sit up and tugged the shirt over my head as I sat there quietly. James murmured something and then hugged me close. It was about this time I realized he was half-naked, wearing only cotton pajama bottoms. I relished the feeling of his warm smooth skin against my cheek and nestled into his shoulder. It felt so good; there wasn't anyone to hold me for a very long time.

He rocked me back and forth, his large palms rubbing circles on my shoulder blades. He leaned back far enough to look at me before cupping my face and licking the tears sliding down my chin. 

"Why did he have to die?"

Why indeed? Why did he die before we could make up? Before we worked beyond this stupid pride we shared?

I wasn't aware I spoke aloud, but James answered in monosyllables as I clearly didn't expect an answer. I blindly reached up and frantically peppered his whiskered jaw with tiny kisses even as I pushed at his bottoms. I desperately wanted to forget; I needed the oblivion that drove me into the bar earlier. His arms tightened around me and suddenly I was prone, his lean body covering mine. 

Our lips mashed against one another, teeth clicking as we both sought to control the kiss. James grasped my hair and pulled – hard – tilting my chin upward.

"No."

I felt incredibly vulnerable, the soft underside of my throat bared to his intent gaze. His eyes softened and he reluctantly loosened his hold. He stroked the side of my face and settled his harsh breathing. I tentatively brushed a hair from his forehead and he smiled.

The second meeting of our lips was much softer, sweeter. I grew intoxicated by his taste, the texture of his skin, his sinewy body. As our kisses became deeper and deeper, my thighs parted, legs settling around his hips. I didn't understand, nor did I care, how we came to this. I just knew I desperately wanted it.

***

James opened his heavy eyes and saw the passionate look on Penelope's face. He wasn't sure how it changed from comforting a crying woman to seducing her into sex, but there was no going back. He liked how her curvy body filled the planes and hollows of his own. Shifting slightly, he slid his cock into the warm hollow between her upraised thighs. They both moaned appreciatively when he was completely inside her pussy.

"Open your eyes." 

Penelope's lids slowly rose until she looked at him fully. His cock twitched involuntarily at this small sign of submission. 

"Don't move or make a sound until I allow you to." Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. James smiled indulgently and rewarded her with a forward thrust.

"Good girl." 

***

I silently ordered my hands to release his broad shoulders so I could smack him, but they remained in place. I couldn't understand why I was allowing this man – a stranger – to control my movements. Then he thrust forward again and I remembered. I hadn't had sex in so long my brain was rotting and I was in serious danger of other important parts falling off. 

I whimpered instinctively when he pulled out completely. He brushed a fingertip against my lips to still my protests then expertly flipped me over. An involuntary shriek escaped me at this movement.

"Wha-a-a" I stammered.

Damnit, I never stammer!

A second later he answered with a sensuous brush of his tongue against the sensitive skin on my shoulders. I closed my eyes as he began trailing wet open-mouthed kisses down my spine to the sacral area of my lower back. 

"Yessssssssss" I hissed as he tenderly parted the globes of my ass and licked around my asshole. I probably should've worried about the smell or taste, but I was so far gone in lust with this man, I'd given him complete control of my body. He could do what he wanted with me as long as he didn't stop licking and sucking.

A few heavenly minutes later, he urged me to my hands and knees before he slid deeply into my pussy. His hands tightened around my hips and I bit my lip to keep from screaming with pleasure. James knew exactly which places to hit as he slowly pulled out then drove forward. Soon our bodies were slick with sweat as he pushed me higher and higher until I felt as if my soul would break.

"No more" I cried, my sensitive flesh making an audible slurping sound with each push.

I was suddenly afraid of the intensity of my pleasure; I'd never been pushed so far so fast and I wanted to shield myself.

"Now" he commanded, leaning down to bite my neck hard. 

For the first time in my life, I understood the term "seeing stars" as they exploded behind my closed eyelids. James followed me into oblivion a few seconds later, his cum molten lava searing the walls of my pussy.

***

James licked the salt from Penelope's shoulder and hugged her closer. He didn't understand the connection he felt with her, a mere stranger a few hours before. She made a small kittenish sound of contentment then relaxed into sleep. He felt drowsy as well, but was disinclined to stay in her bed. He'd never slept next to a woman and he felt no compunction to start. 

Just one more minute he promised himself as he snuggled into the soft pillows beneath his head. One more minute won't hurt.



Sparking Ch. 08



I awoke with a start. Heart hammering, I turned over to see what presumptuous man had crawled into my bed. Seeing the dark-hair and strong face, I understood last night hadn't been wishful thinking or erotic dreams. James really had come to my bed last night in an attempt to comfort my inconsolable heart. I dreamily traced his thin upper lip with a curious fingertip until a tongue suddenly came out and captured it. I watched as his long lashes parted and his brilliant green eyes stared at me.

"Morning" I whispered. He smiled, a devastating thing to behold so early in the morning, as he captured my questing hand. He slowly took my hand and skimmed it over his hair-roughened nipple before lowering it even further. When I encountered his ridged stomach (surely this man had fat on him somewhere), he withdrew his own touch, content to let me explore. 

A moment later I hesitantly brushed the tip of his penis. James winked at me as he slyly thrust his hips upward. My hand instinctively grabbed his entire length and he groaned with appreciation. Smiling slightly, I ran my fingers down his penis so I could gently cup his balls. Feeling the heavy sacs, I massaged them as I brought my other hand into play. He shoved the covers away from his body and allowed me to look at him fully in the morning light streaming through the window to the right of the bed.

Tall and lean, James was covered with patches of dense springy black hair from the middle of his chest to his "happy trail" and further down. He obviously took care to trim around his genitals, as his balls were hairless and soft. I couldn't stop an inquisitive finger from tracing the perineum to the seam of his ass and discovered some hair there as well. He squirmed slightly, but towards my finger instead of away. He was subtly instructing me on his pleasures; I liked that in a man.

Deciding I wanted to taste him, I bent my head, allowing my hair to feather across his stomach. I gently swallowed half of his penis into my willing mouth and savored him. Though I'd had a few lovers, I'd discovered each man had his own flavor. James tasted of salt and musk; it wasn't unpleasant, indeed a taste I could become addicted to.

His hands, acquiescent until now, lightly pushed at my body until I was aligned with him. His thighs opened, making a cradle so I could suck his cock from a better angle. He caressed my hair as I swirled my tongue around the head and then continued back down his length. I passed the half way mark and then engulfed him entirely. I found my nose pressed into his abdomen as I tried to adjust my throat. It required patience and learning in order to deep-throat comfortably enough for both parties.

He waited, though I could sense the tightly reined impatience of the male animal's instinctive need to plunge. When I felt I could breathe as much as possible in this position, I lifted my head and allowed him to slip slowly from my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the head then sucked him back into the moist depths. 

After a few minutes of such ministrations, James' hands ceased being gentle and began forcing my head down as his hips lifted up. I wasn't alarmed, as I knew this instant would come. It never failed for a man to do so; instead, I courted it as I enjoyed when I lost control of the situation and his need took over. It had happened countless times before and I knew what to expect; he would fuck my mouth ruthlessly, perhaps even coming. If not, he would withdraw then fuck whatever hole he could fit in to. Some women were unable to accommodate this, but I gloried in my ability to become whatever the man using me needed.

Abruptly, James forced my head upwards and savaged my mouth with a brutal kiss. He then pushed me back onto the bed and spread my thighs with an impatient hand. To my shock, he bent his own head and thrust his tongue deep into my pussy. With a few strokes up and down my sopping slit, a well-placed bite on my clit, I shattered, screaming his name.

A pirate's grin curved his lips as he leaned over me. Even as his mouth clamped down on my breast, he plunged his cock deep into me until I couldn't tell where I began and he ended. He ruthlessly rode me, his hips pounding into me, his heavy balls slapping my ass. I started to close my eyes, but he pulled sharply on my hair. I looked up at him and he shook his head fiercely. Though we didn't speak, I understood he didn't wish for me to look away from him.

It really wasn't hard to look at his hard visage. No, indeed, I could imagine him a rampaging lord of medieval times trying to take a citadel. Despite my two orgasms, he continued to plunder my flesh as if to strip me completely. I knew, though I don't understand how, he wouldn't be satisfied with anything less then total capitulation of my will to his.

He reached down to insinuate a finger between us. He pushed the digit into my stretched sheath even as he changed the angle of his thrust. In that moment I stared at him as we both splintered. 

***

James flopped onto his back his chest heaving and mouth open as he tried to draw in as much air as possible. He turned his head to look at Penelope and felt a glow of satisfaction at her stupefied expression. He knew he'd pushed her further and faster then he'd ever done to a sub, but she'd preformed beautifully. God, his cock still throbbed despite his orgasm at how responsive she was.

He changed his gaze to the ceiling as realization sunk in. For the first time in his life, he'd not been careful with protection. In fact, he'd come twice in her pussy without any thought to disease or pregnancy. Panic churned in his stomach at his carelessness. He'd whipped Liam once when he was a teen upon the discovery of a youthful indiscretion without aid of a condom. Now he'd repeated his brother's foolishness, though at a much more advanced age and wisdom. He knew better, but something about her messed with his usual clear-sightedness. 

"James?" 

He realized then in his dazed state, he'd been clenching the bedspread. Silently cursing himself, he looked back at his erstwhile lover. 

Perhaps more harshly then he intended, he gritted out, "Yes?"

Rose color washed across her pale cheeks and she sat up. Gloriously naked, the golden light faithfully limed her generous figure and turned brown hair into a riot of auburn and gold. Entranced by the sight, James forgot his irritation and reverently touched a curl on her shoulder. 

His ancestors had been Celts, a fanciful people who believed in deities that walked the earth sometimes. Despite the thousands of years between them and James, for a moment his twenty-first century mind was submerged beneath a pagan sense of awe. He bent his head and gently kissed her shoulder, cheek, and finally her mouth. A bubble of serenity surrounded them and both rejoiced in the feeling as their mouths fused into passionate one.

An eternity later, he lifted his head and stared into wistful brown eyes. He smiled then kissed the tip of her nose. Any anger he felt swirled away as he realized the passion of the moment had stolen both their wits. He wasn't sure what the future held, but it definitely wasn't necessary to bemoan unalterable facts.

"Come on. The day awaits no man."

***

If someone had told me a week ago I would be seated in the kitchen of an insanely hot boxer-clad man watching him make me breakfast, I would've thought long and hard about their committal to an insane asylum. 

After the betrayal of Barry, I'd been more circumspect in my choice of lovers. None of the men I'd taken to my bed afterwards had been as exciting, but neither did they have the will to hurt me as he did. None, however, could withstand comparison to James. There was something about him that called to me; his complete yet gentle domination of me last night and this morning was intriguing. 

I'd known for a long time I had sub tendencies, but despaired of ever finding a Dom who could suit me. Of course, I was jumping ahead of myself and throwing a bridle on a colt not even mine.

"How you like your eggs?"

Fortunately, his well-timed question drew me from pointless speculation and poor metaphors.

"Scrambled." Like my brain right now. It was strange to have this conversation; it was safe, homily even.

He turned back to his well-ordered kitchen and drew out the necessary ingredients. I was tempted to ask him if he needed help, but I could tell by his graceful movements he was comfortable and more then able.

"So what do you have planned for your day?" I wasn't sure how long this interlude would last and was interested to know if I needed to clear out soon.

James shrugged and spoke over his shoulder, "I hadn't thought that far ahead. Of course with yesterday," no need to go into details there, "things have been a little strange."

"Indeed."

After we finished his delicious eggs and French toast breakfast, I decided I needed to use the shower to wash off the night's excesses. I enjoyed the large stall and looked askance at the supple showerhead, but felt it wasn't my place to ask. We were chance met lovers and probably wouldn't been seeing much of each other on a personal level again. 

Of course, there was the matter of my father's will and we definitely strayed beyond the bounds of decency and morality, but I figured we could deal with one another professionally. As long as I kept the image of him standing over me while I knelt at his feet sucking his cock.

I shook my head at the persistent perversions of my own mind as I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the large bath sheet around me twice. I really didn't want to leave, but I also didn't want to be the psycho bitch from the bar guys always fear. I had no idea where I'd go since I definitely couldn't go back home until after the will was read nor to my false mother's, but I wanted out before I made a complete fool out of myself.

Sighing, I walked back into the room I temporarily stayed in and stopped as I saw James sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked at me and asked, "Do you have any diseases? Can you possibly get pregnant?"

***

He watched a pale brown eyebrow raise in question.

"I er...didn't use a condom last night." She gasped, face turning pink. He decided to forbore telling her he hadn't used one this morning either.

"So, can you get pregnant?"

She slowly unwound the towel around her. James instinctively tried to stop her, but just stared at her loveliness. He'd never been attracted to stick thin women, but healthy athletic types. Her body was lush and round in all the right places.

"James." He could tell by the impatience in her voice he'd spaced out again. Smiling sheepishly, he glanced upwards.

"I cannot have children. This is why." He gazed at the faint pale lines on her lower abdomen for a few minutes before the import sank in. They were surgery scars.

"When I was about 12 or so, I was riding and my horse got spooked. I wasn't a bad rider, but I hadn't really been paying attention so I flew off. Unfortunately I landed right under the horse's feet. There was so much internal bleeding they had to do a complete hysterectomy."

James looked deeply into her eyes and wondered at the acceptance he saw there. Most women he knew were baby-hungry, hence his bachelor status. Well, that and he'd rarely met anyone, sub or not, who could capture his attention beyond the tip of his penis.

"So, no babies are possible for me. As for diseases, I get checked every 6 months and I have the paperwork if you need to see it."

A please (and relieved) chuckle lightened the grave mood he'd slipped into. Though she was an exciting partner, it was prudent to be safe when it came to sex in these more perilous times. 

"Good. You can never be too careful. In case you're wondering, I too have papers and normally I don't have these conversations because I always take precautions."

She nodded then wrapped the towel around herself again. The questioning look she slipped him nettled him for some reason. They just fucked ten ways to Sunday and she wanted him to leave while she dressed?

James settled back onto the stacked pillows with his arms crossed beneath his head.

"Dress for me."

*****

How can a man make those three words sound so intoxicating and thrilling? For God's sake, he was telling me to put my clothes on not take them off!

This was a strange situation for me. I've had one night stands before, but generally awoke with the feeling I needed to escape. I'd never been treated to wake up sex or breakfast. Nor did I have a discussion about pregnancy and disease. I carried condoms in my purse normally just in case, but it never entered my mind when he came to my bedroom. 

He cocked a dark brow and nodded meaningfully at my towel.

"I'm waiting." God, so am I. 

Deciding to ignore the flabby part of my inner thighs I can never exercise off or the extra bit I carry around my waist, I dropped the towel. Inside I quaked at him seeing all my flaws so clearly, but outwardly I projected the same serene façade that pulled me through the Barry fiasco.

Allowing my damp hair to fall forward, I bent over in front of him to retrieve the garments I neatly folded and placed on the chest at the foot of the bed before retiring to bed last night. I normally slept in a large shirt, but I'd been too muddled to open my suitcase near the door. I nearly started in surprise when I heard a slight moan. Peeking through the curtain of my hair, I saw the front of his boxers were tented. I pretended ignorance and straightened slowly with the clothes clutched at my stomach.

"Now put your bra on."

I eyed him, but didn't protest. I'd never had a man direct my dressing habits before and it was arousing. I placed the folded clothes on the edge and picked up the green demi-cup bra I'd bought on a whim one Saturday afternoon. My skin tingled and my nipples puckered as I drew the delicate lace straps up my arms and onto my shoulders. I leaned forward again so my full breasts were properly contained and clasped the back.

"Mmmmm." I looked at him again and noted his hand had drifted down and was palming his cock through the silk. I'm silly, but I was extremely flattered by his reaction.

"Penelope, you aren't done yet." 

His sharp reprimand brought me back from my mental wandering and I immediately grasped the matching panties. I'm a full-bottomed girl, so they weren't the tiny g-strings you always see in those smutty stores. I was a little embarrassed at how large they looked, but gamely went forward. If my completely nude form didn't disgust the man, somehow I doubt he'd be turned off by the size of my clothes. 

I briefly debated how I would slip into them, but honestly there really isn't a sexy way to put underwear on. I lifted my right leg then my left and shimmied them up my thighs. The lace in the back caught between my butt cheeks and I skimmed a finger under the material on each side to stretch it out. Smoothing my hands over the back and the front, I ensured there were no more snags.

I glanced at James again and noted at some point he'd taken his boxers off. He spread his legs a bit and confidently stroked his cock while gently rolling his ball sack.

"I want you bent over the bed with your pretty nipples popping out of that bra."

I immediately obeyed his command and watched as he rose to a kneeling position so his cock wasn't far from my mouth. He smiled tightly as he gripped himself again and started a strong rhythm. 

"You are so fuckable. Your mouth...breasts...oh that nice round juicy ass. Oh I bet you love it in every hole? Even if you don't now, I know you will soon."

He suddenly stopped his motion and merely squeezed the underside of the head. He threw his head back and the tendons of his throat were in sharp relief.

"Fuck. I want to come. Again!" He glared at me as if it was my fault. 

"I'm not some callow youth who shoots off like a five second rocket, yet I just watch you put on some lingerie and want spray all over your chest."

I drew in a small breath as I imagined the feeling of his hot cum streaming down my face, on my lips, pooling on my stomach.

His green eyes gleamed at the betraying sound.

"You're a cum-slut, aren't you." It definitely wasn't a question.

I nodded mutely. I'd never been so desired, especially by a man who I'd met barely 48 hours ago. 

"I'm a cum-slut. I get off on feeling men spurt their semen in my hair, on my face, in my ass." Just saying those words made me moan. 

James grabbed the back of my head and kissed me fiercely, his teeth biting at my tender lips. It was uncomfortable given the position I was still in, but I rejoiced in the harshness. A moment later he gentled and licked the small wound.

"I'm never one to deny a lady."

I listened to his impassioned grunts as he masturbated harder and harder to jack all over my breasts. I was so wet I knew my inner thighs were glistening. I slipped a hand beneath me and down to my pussy. I desperately wanted to orgasm with him, but before I could do more then a few strokes of my clit, he erupted over my lips and chin. He moaned as a second spurt hit my chest and slid down into the deep cleavage created by my bra.

He moved forward a bit and the head tapped against my cum-covered mouth. I opened and he thrust inside so I could suck off any remaining semen.

****

James felt the familiar lassitude after release flow through his body and he sprawled back onto the bed gratefully. He'd watched a number of women undress, but none had been as arousing as watching Penelope dress. He glanced at her and saw she hadn't moved from her bent position nor wiped off any of his jizz.

Fuck he wanted to keep her. She'd responded beautifully since the beginning and he just knew he could train her to his hand exclusively. Penelope was one of those rare subs who were made for only one Dom. Yet, he knew it wouldn't be fair to her as she was clearly a novice in this sphere and James knew himself well enough that within a year or so he would become bored with her. He always did.

"You will put on your dress."

"My face? Chest?"

"Let it dry. I want you to wear my cum." 

He wasn't sure what spurred him to command her thusly. If he wasn't going to train her, what right did he have to direct her actions? At the same time, marking her and ensuring it remained on her satisfied the primitive being who inhabited the deepest recesses of his soul. 

James felt a small spark in his groin when she smiled and licked her lips appreciatively. He glared at his dick and mentally growled. He'd cum three times already, impressive enough, so there was no way he could go again any time soon.

"James? I'm...horny still. May I get off before I finish dressing?"

He broke off the fierce argument with his insensible smaller head and looked back at Penelope. Lust sparkled in the dark brown depths of her eyes, lips open as she faintly panted. He flared his nostrils and could swear he smelled the faint sweetness of wet pussy.

Ignoring the screaming voice intent on self-preservation, James debated his choices. If he allowed her to masturbate, she wouldn't stay in that heightened state of sexual arousal and they could get back to more neutral footing. On the other hand, he enjoyed driving his pets further and further past what they thought their limits were. James suspected Penelope had never even been tested like that before.

"No. Your pleasure comes when I say it does."

He watched with amusement as frustration and sulkiness invaded her pretty face. Her lips tightened and her brow furrowed. A few seconds later her skin smoothed out and she even managed a smile, through gritted teeth.

"If you say so."

Yes, I do, but only for the time being.