0 comments/ 23606 views/ 1 favorites The Path By: Zennor Maxine, sometimes called Maxie, was 5'6", blonde, 45 and divorced. This morning she was also very frustrated and angry, another relationship had turned sour. It wasn't that he had tried to take over everything, she avoided men like that especially since she had found how selfish they were in bed. It wasn't that the sex was bad, he was better than average at that. It was more subtle, the guy had started to defer to her in the same way her husband had used to do Her men did that to her, expecting her to make all the decisions and she loathed it. She ran her own company all day and when she came home she didn't want more of the same, she wanted the burden lifted a little. Jokes, surprises, a meal occasionally and good sex were all she really needed. Her marriage and her affairs all started well but gradually the guys turned into wimps. She ended up having to do everything except wipe their snotty noses. Last night Ted had asked what he should wear out tomorrow and the row had started. It had deteriorated into a one sided slanging match where he just accepted what she said but did nothing about it. That was how she had woken this morning about 5 in a large, but lonely, bed. Lying there she decided to run off her frustrations early, she enjoyed jogging and when she got back she could have a nice shower with a bit of masturbation thrown in. By 5.30 she had changed into her running things and was headed out to her favoured spot, a country park on the edge of town. She knew she would be there by 6. Because the British are all chronically late risers she knew she would have the place to herself. But not this morning, there was another car parked. About 10 minutes down the path she stopped to do some stretches and noticed someone else back from the path in a clearing. Curious she went to look. It was a young woman running through the slow and apparently effortless movements of a T'ai Chi set. Maxine had played T'ai Chi after she'd had her boobs tightened and knew that the effortlessness was an illusion. Looking at this woman she also knew that here was an expert. The form and way that it was done was on a completely different level to anything Maxine had achieved. She forgot her own plans watching the sheer beauty of the thing. Maxine found she could recall the strange, almost sensual names of some of the movements. (Grasp birds tail, single whip, brush knee, needle at sea bottom) The woman Maxine watched was Chinese and had a face which seemed ageless. Somewhere between 18 and 40 was Maxine's best guess. In the half light of the morning the ivory skin seemed to glow brightly and was framed by long, dark hair and the traditional loose black suit. That same suit made judging the build difficult but the jacket did not lie flat. (Fan through back, carry tiger to mountain, snake creeps down, parting the wild horses mane) Maxie's nipples were tightening. At first she thought it was the cold or the frustration. The vagrant thoughts ("better get back - I really need to come off - I don't do women,") floated through her mind but her mind and body were not one. She found she could not move, she had to watch to the end of the set. It was as if a spell had been cast. (Golden cock stands on one leg, white snake turns and puts out tongue, stand up to form seven stars, conclusion) There was a moment of complete stillness as the form ended with the two women standing nearly touching. Everything was in balance for that instant. Maxie wanted to speak but the other woman held one elegant finger to her lips commanding silence and fixing the western woman's eyes on their moist fullness. The only sounds were bird song and the shallow, gasping breaths coming from Maxine. The oriental lifted the top of Maxie's jogging suit but did not touch her skin. It was removed and discarded revealing the tight sports bra that chafed at Maxine's nipples. The slanted eyes regarded the flesh so far revealed and then looked into Maxie's eyes. "Continue," a faintly accented voice said, Maxine slipped off her jogging bottoms and stopped but the woman she needed did nothing. Unfastening her bra was difficult but once that restriction was removed it seemed right to slide down her panties. Maxie stood naked but for her running shoes. One slender hand reached out and weighed a western breast then the other ran over Maxies stomach. The nipples were played with and brought to full hardness. Maxie leaned into the touch wanting more. The pain of one nipple twisted cruelly brought her upright. "No," was the command and Maxie stood, waiting The examination continued. Her desired tormentor posed her like a doll and everywhere the dancing hands moved was sensitive. Maxie gasped only when a finger was pushed into her rectum and a hand passed tantalizingly over her sodden mound. Her punishment was to have the tender flesh of her perineum pinched roughly. At last only one hand played with Maxie, with a nipple now tighter than at any other time in her life. The hand fell away. "Continue," "but what . . ." Maxie began to be silenced by the stinging slap to her cheek and the single finger raised again to oriental lips, Maxine began simply, just running her hands over her waist and stomach. She ran one hand upwards teasing her breast, mauling them harder than she ever normally did. The other hand went back and down sliding into the tight crack and touching the secret hole so recently violated. That hand then rose up, to stroke Maxie's hot flushed neck and face. She sucked her finger tasting the faint musk that clung to it. Her pace became faster. She lifted her breast and though it hurt managed to touch her nipples with her tongue. She shivered and started to scratch her body leaving faint reddened wheals. One hand descended massaged and marked her inner thigh. Feeling the lubrication that had dribbled down between her legs. Her lower lips were gaping and when she found her clitoris it was already clear of it's sheath. It was harder to breath especially when she began to pinch the little nubbin. Soon she would cum and nothing would stop it. The hand that slapped her breast sent a bolt of pain/pleasure down her body. "Soon - now kneel," said that even voice, When Maxie knelt the woman stood in front of her so close that the scent of sweat and sex drifted out from under the clothing. With her legs apart and knees slightly bent she moves her sex closer still. Maxie didn't care that twigs and stones dug into her knees - she wanted this woman. "Continue," Hesitantly Maxie raised her hands to the tie at the waist of the pants, half expecting to be stopped. She wasn't. The black silk cloth slid down a little way revealing no panties just a thick mass of dark hair and a hint of pink half hidden beneath. The creamy hands grasped Maxine's head, tangling themselves in Maxie's hair, she pulled the westerner to her. Wet pussy was rubbed all over Maxie's face, the pubic bone crushed against her nose. Maxie was used to masturbate her dominatix. Pussy juices smeared and dried on her face. The wonderful smell overwhelmed her. The hands disentangled from Maxie's hair and opened the sweet oyster in front of her. At last there came the desired command, "Lick," and Maxie did taking her beloved over the brink and having her mouth fill with juice. But there was no loss of control, no collapse, no cries or whimpers, only the wave of liquid. The woman stepped back, "Good, continue," Maxie obeyed and plunged her fingers into her twat, her hand flashing back and forth. She did not have the control of her mistress, her cries filled the clearing, her body twitched and fell on her side. Two fingers, three, here other hand squeezed down to manipulate her clit. She thrashed, wanting release but could not make it happen. Her mistress meanwhile tied her pants and looked disinterestedly at Maxine. She turned as if to leave, stopped and said, "Finish," Maxie howled at the release. She writhed, wanting to stop so she could follow but unable to do so. She blacked out. When she awoke there was no sign that anyone else had ever been in the clearing. Maxie brushed the leaves and sticks that had stuck to her skin. The slime that had covered her face had largely dried and would have to wait for her shower. When she went to pick up her clothes, her bra and panties were missing. Even after dressing she felt more naked. Maxine started back on the path she had begun a long hour ago. She tried not to think about what had happened, telling herself it was an aberration born of her frustration. Back at the car park the other car had gone but on the hood of Maxie's was a small bundle. She undid it. the cloth tying it together were he won panties but slashed about so they resembled a G-string. The other items were a pair of flat canvas Chinese shoes, the sort you practise martial arts in. "What does she think I am," thought Maxine, "her slave?" But she already knew the answer. for instead of discarding the gifts in the nearby waste bin she laid them gently on the seat beside her. The Path Faith Peters ran from the place she hated to call home for the last time. Her father, home drunk again had beaten her while her whisper of a mother watched with a teary expression. It was like an old recorder player, skipping to the same place in the song. Every night was the battle between his hand and her body. Not anymore. Tonight was different. Faith rose up against her father and fought back. She nearly matched the drunkard slap for slap. When the moment was right, she pushed her father hard and made a run for it. Pausing just for a half-second to grab the backpack she hid under the porch, she ran from that mobile home park where beer cans and car parts littered the ground. Faith ran straight into the dense forest, a place where hunters do not dare to tread. She ran into the woods where the old witch family lived. It had been known that a family with the last name of Reid had made a living within the dense forest named Dark Oak Woods. The family was known as medicine people and used the land to treat and cure what ailed the townsfolk of Brooks End as well live off it. Yet, that was many of years ago and speculation began to fly around the family. They were said to be nothing be witches, doing the devil's work. Soon, the members of the family were not welcome in the town. They were cursed at and rocks were thrown. All the while, the Reid family did not know why this was happening. It is the greedy preacher who came into town that caused this turmoil. Not a good man of the cloth, he wanted the land that the Dark Oak Woods sat on, but the Reid family had rights to it. Finding no way to take it legally from them, he had his flock of Christian soldiers to fight his battle. Yet, what happen next, not even the crooked preacher could predict. One of the Reid daughters, Elizabeth had gone into the town to buy fabric for a dress. She was no older than eighteen years old and was naïve to the conflict at hand. A sweet girl with strawberry blond hair and large green eyes, she thought that people were good at heart. After being kicked out of the fabric store, Elizabeth sadly started her way back home when she was stopped by a group of townspeople. They yelled obscenities at her and spat on her. Soon the group of people became a large mob that were pushing and pulling the poor girl around. Dragging her to the town square, someone had thrown a noose on one of the lower limbs of the large maple. The people pulled her up high in the tree by the neck and then let her crash down. The torture of Elizabeth continued until finally someone had tied the other end of the rope off. There were cheers and celebrations happening all around the maple as Elizabeth slowly strangled to death. Without any respect for the dead, the townsfolk left her broken body hanging in the large maple. Going back into their homes, they laugh and giggled at what they did. Some people wanted to keep her body there, as a warning to the rest of the Reid family to stay away. In the dead of night, the town was awakening to the sound of crying. People who lived close the square looked out their windows and watched a hellish scene. The whole family of Reid had been looking for Elizabeth when she did not come to dinner. The oldest son mention about Elizabeth saying she wanted to make a new dress. Now, as the body of Elizabeth fell into the arms of her sobbing mother and father, the town had realized what they have been. A young, innocent woman was murdered by their hands. The story is not through. Some of the townsfolk who did not turn from their windows to hide witness this. The maple tree that held Elizabeth spontaneously when up in flames at least that is what they said. Yet, the petrified maple tree stands in the gloomy square to this day. Since that night, people's wells started to go dry while healthy fields of wheat, corn, and beans began to die without cause. Try as they might, all plants refused to grow. Cattle stopped eating or went mad. The town lost so much money that people began to move out. The people who could not moved, stayed and suffered. The townsfolk who stayed said that the town was cursed for what they did to Elizabeth. Rather if the Reid family were real witches or not was never discovered. True, the Reid family had certain abilities, but they never had the capability to cause a curse of any kind, or could they? Now for sixty years, the so-called Reid curse held fast. Faith did not care about a curse or the remaining Reid members that might dwell in the woods. She ran as fast as her thin white tennis shoes would allow. Dressed in nothing but a thin blue, blood stained t-shirt and faded blue jeans; she dodged large trees and jumped over roots. It felt like hours passed since she had been running when the night sky opened up and poured. With rain blinding her steps, Faith fell into a ravine. Only scrap up hands and a bruise thigh was the only damage from the twenty foot slide down. Faith tried to climb up the side, but it was no use. Each time she reached into the earth to get footing, clumps of dirt and grass would fall into her hands. Faith cried out, mud smearing her oval face and dark red hair. Her fair skin was covered in grass, dirt, and scratch, as well as scars from her father's past beatings. Faith's slender body fell back into the mud. She cried softly, curling her short height up into a ball. When she opened her heavenly blue eyes, she was looking at a path. Getting up, she realized that this must be the path used be the Reid. With her sense of direction, she had the town behind her and the Reid homestead in front. Knowing that she would not survive going back to the town and her father, she chose to move forward. She was not from one of the families that lived here when Elizabeth was murdered. Her father had bought cheap farm land here when Faith was five and moved her and her weak-minded mother to the dead town. It was not till after her father saw the land and the real estate agent ran off with the money that they knew what kind of trouble they were in. Her mother, never a strong woman had to work two jobs to support her young daughter and her husband who drank way too much. Faith heard the stories about the Reid family and what happened to Elizabeth. Faith went to the town square after school and saw the maple tree. She placed her hands on the tree and saw everything. Bestowed with her grandmother's strong gift of second sight, Faith sat next to the tree and cried until dusk. When she returned home at such a late hour, her father beat her for the first time. Faith walked endlessly farther into the woods. Finally the path opened to the large crystal clear lake and grassland. Near to it had to be the Reid's house. It was a large white painted, third stories with a wrap-around first and second story porch and several red brick chimneys poking out of the tin roof. A red large barn sat just a hundred feet away from the house. The barn was closer to Faith and the rain had not let up. She did not want to disturb anyone at this hour so she slipped in the barn. Inside the barn, it was dry and wonderfully warm. She walked quietly around the equipment, tack room and the stables that housed their small herd of goats and cows. Moving around, Faith almost squealed in joy. The Reid family own horses too. She walked slowly up to the first horse, a large black Arabian male with a long black mane and black tail that touch the floor. She had not seen horses since she was a little girl on her grandmother's farm. The Arabian sniffed her open palm and rubbed her hand with his nose. She began to pat his graceful neck as the thoughts of her grandmother resurfaced. Faith's father, Charles, had sold her grandmother's farm only weeks after she passed away. The farm was actually Rachel, her mother's to do as she wanted, but he was always looking for a way to make a buck. Forcing her mother to sell her childhood home broke her heart and spirit. From that day on, she was a shell of her former self. Faith rested her head against the horse's neck. She was so tired, cold, and, wet that she felt like she was going to collapse. The Arabian backed away from her and nodded his head towards an open door. Faith looked inside and smiled. It was a hay storage room. The hay was fresh and smelled sweet to her. Turning back to the horse to say thank you, she could not help but giggle. The Arabian held pulled a horse blanket from off a nearby post and had laid it on his gate. He signaled for Faith to take the blanket. Faith took the blanket and rubbed his neck. Glances at his gate, she read his name. "Thank you, Shadow." She whispered in his ear. He rubbed his nose against her face and turned to go to sleep. Faith, now in the hay room, took all her now damp clothes from her backpack and laid them out to dry. The money that she had saved up from her waitress job was wet but it would dry too. Faith knew that she would catch a cold if she slept in her clothes. Stripping down to her simple white 34 C bra and panties, she laid the clothes with the rest. Faith settled on a small pile of hay with the horse blanket wrap around her. It was strange, but Faith felt completely safe there. * In the middle of the night, Scott Reid woke with a start. Someone was in his family barn. Pulling on jeans and a sweatshirt, he walked down the stairs to the kitchen. As he put on his socks and boots, he focused on the energy that was trespassing. A young woman just turned eighteen with the ability of second sight had made residence in his barn. She was short, not more than five foot four with flaming shoulder blade length, dark red hair and sky blue eyes. Her slim figure was covered with a horse blanket that Shadow had provided for her. "Shadow, you are a gentleman." Scott said to himself as he pulled his waist length blond hair into a ponytail. Six foot even with a build of a football player, Scott was one of the last Reid members that lived at the homestead. The many members of the family had moved after his great-aunt Elizabeth was murdered. The town where she was killed at had gone to shit. People said that the Reid family cursed it. In truth, it was lighting to cause the tree to burst into flames and nature turn on the town. The fields were overused and the water had been pumped dry from the ground. As for the animals going crazy and not eating, it was from a fertilizer that gotten mixed into the feed and no one figured it out until years later. People needed to put the blame on something other than their selves. Witchcraft was the scapegoat. Scott raced out in the now light rain to the barn. Without turning on any light, he found his way to the hay room. There she was, sleeping beneath the horse blanket. Stepping closer, Scott realized that something was not right. She was shivering terribly and murmuring in her sleep. Reaching down, Scott felt her forehead, she was burning up. She was suffering from a rain fever. Without thinking, Scott scooped her into his arms and ran back to the house. Inside, he carried her into his bedroom where the fireplace was lit. Tossing the horse blanket to the floor, his breath was caught for a moment. Her body was on display for his eyes. Her skin was pale and her figure more slender than slim than he thought. To his shock, there were scars along her arms and legs, more on her back. Scott wrapped her into his thick blue, terry cloth bathrobe and tucked her into his bed. Going down to the kitchen, he filled hot water bottles and placed them underneath and around her. Feeding more wood to the fire, he tried to get it as warm as possible for her. Changing back into his sleep pants and shirt, she cried out. "Dad, please don't hit Mom! Hit me instead!" Faith began to fight, twisting the bed sheets and blankets around her. Scott went to her and tried to quiet her down. She calmed down only when Scott wrapped his arms around her. She opened her eyes when the fever broke. She looked at Scott for a moment and smiled. "You have Elizabeth's eyes" She said. Scott smiled and tried to lay her down. He decided to sleep in the one of the other rooms. As Scott moved away, Faith whimpered, grabbing his arm, pulling him closer. Having really no choice, Scott climbed in bed next to Faith. Lying on his side, she snuggled up against his chest, twisting her fingers in his shirt. Scott held her close to his body to share body heat with her, wondering what the morning would bring. Yet, having her in his arms felt right. Faith woke with early morning light in her eyes. She did not feel the hay beneath her or the wool blanket on her. Slowly, she sat up and gasped. She was in a bed in the Reid house. Wrapped within heavy cotton blankets and a bathrobe, she untucked herself slowly. She felt weak and drained for some reason she could not remember. Placing her bare feet on the hardwood floor, she noticed things about the room. Trophies of football wins, 4-H contest posters and the pile of men's clothes in a basket made Faith aware that she was not in a girl's room. Silently, she slipped down the stairs that led to the kitchen. The appliances shined in the sunlight that streamed through the large windows. She snuggled farther in the large bathrobe she was wearing closer and made a shocking discovery. All she had underneath the robe was her bra and panties. Whoever that brought her into the house and tucked her in bed must have seen her scars and bruises. Faith felt weak as her legs began to tremble. Gripping the kitchen island, she forced herself to stand erected, yet she fell anyways. Behind her, large arms had caught her in her distress. Those same arms lead her to a chair that he had drawn out for her. Scott had finished his morning chores of feeding the live stock when he saw Faith through the kitchen window. The sunlight dances on her red wavy locks as he watched her snuggle inside his bathrobe. He rushed inside when her face turned pale and her knees began to knock. "Thank you." Faith whispered as she settled in the chair. Scott kneeled beside her, taking her pulse and feeling her forehead. She was no longer running a fever, but last night in the elements took their toll. Leaving her side, Scott fixed her a glass of fresh milk, bread and a bowl of warming, homemade chicken soup from the pot that sat on the wood stove. Faith was grateful for the food that Scott sat down in front of her. "Your clothes are on the line, drying, along with your bag and shoes. Your money is back in your wallet. You can count it if you like." Scott said ad he fixed himself a bowl of soup and a glass of milk. He sat down across from her at the small table. Faith, mouth full of chicken and vegetables, she smiled. Scott smiled back. "You can wear the bathrobe all day if you like or I can see what my female relatives had left." He noted a change in Faith. Her eyes suddenly turned dark and she placed her spoon down on her napkin. "You saw my scars, didn't you?" Faith asked without looking up. "Yes. What happened?" "My father, he has beaten me pretty much everyday since we moved to that god awful town. That is why I was in the rainstorm last night. I finally had enough money to get out of there." Faith went silent for a moment. She looked up, teary eye. "I just wish I could take my mother with me." Faith placed her face in her hands and began to cry softly. Scott went to her and gathered her into his arms. She cried against his strong chest until it became hiccups. He brushed the hair from her eyes and hugged her close, comforting her. It was a couple hours later and Faith, now dressed in a green gingham dress and granny boots sat in the living room. Her clothes were dry and all her money was accounted for, she was making herself ready to leave. Folding her clothes, except for the change she was going to dress into, she filled her backpack again. Scott watched for a moment from the entrance way. It was odd, but he felt terribly sad to see her leave. It was just him at the homestead during the most of the summer, and autumn months. His rest of his family was busy working on the large apple orchards that they owned and harvested about thirty miles away. They entrusted him to take care of the animals and keep the grounds. He was the youngest of the family and he had a knack with animals. That was why Scott was studying to be a veterinarian. Scott walked in the living room, passed Faith to peek out the window. True, the sky was blue, but dark storm clouds were on the horizon and coming towards them fast. "It is going to rain in about an hour." "What?" Faith said. The swoop of the skirt made it clear that she stood up and walked to the window where Scott was standing. Looking out the glass, she made a throaty, displeasing noise and turned. She sat back on the floor, with her arms crossed. She looks cute when she is angry. Scott thought, looking at her. Her hair in a low bun that had started to come loose. The dress fitted her perfectly, forming to her small waist, narrow hips and, full bust. The deep v-neck fell precisely between her breasts that were pushed together. Scott had even found a pair of cotton sock and his mother's granny boots for her to wear. Everything thing fitted her as if was made for her. When she presented herself, he thought were of the Western heroines that his mother loved to read about. "Are you ready to leave here?" Scott asked, sadly. In fact, he wanted her to stay there with him. For the first time in his life, he felt comfortable with a member of the opposite sex that was not a family member. Faith heard the sorrow in his question and turned to him. His hair, now braided down his back reminded her of the hay she fell asleep on. Physically, she should have been frightened of him, but it was his green grass eyes that shown his tender side. She had helped with the noon chores of checking on water levels of the troughs and cleaning up the yard from the pervious storm. It was his way that he gently handling the baby goats and calves that ensure Faith that he could not do physical harm to her. She giggled a little as he carefully lifted the fallen limbs from the flower beds so not to hurt the dedicate petals. In all Faith's life, she had never witness a man to act that way. "Not here." Faith said as she placed her hand on Scott's shoulder. "I have been living in hell for so long that I want to put many miles between me and that town. I'm afraid that my father will try to find me. If he does, I don't think I would survive him." Faith said, choking on sob. Scott faced her and softly wiped the tear from her cheek. She did not want to leave the Reid house any less than Scott wanted her to stay. She felt safe and welcomed here. It was the fear of her father that was the cause to run. "No one dares goes into these woods anymore. The whole town in convince that my family had cast deadly enchantments to torture any fool who steps foot here. You are safe from him. And if, by chance your father does come here looking for you, I will lie and tell he that I have not seen you. I will protect you, Faith." Scott embraced her. Faith laid her head on his chest and enveloped his waist with her arms. They stood there in sweet silence. The rain came sooner than Scott thought and played music on the tin roof. Days passed and Faith could not be happier. Scott had opened up one of the rooms not used in a while for her to stay in. It was not a large room, yet with the fireplace and doorway leading out to the second porch made it cozy. The two of them had drove to the nearly town of Windy Pines to buy fabric, some new clothes and toilettes for Faith since she decided to stay with Scott. No one stopped her to ask if she was the runaway which meant her father must not be looking for her. Since they were there, Scott drove her out to his family orchards to meet his parents. His whole family fell in love with Faith during the visit. His mother, April, pulled Faith aside as the family was gathering in the dining room for dinner. "I have not seen my son so happy. Faith, I am glad that you came into our lives, especially his." She continued. "Scott told me about your father and what he did to you. I am sorry for everything you have went through. I ensure you that it would never happen to you again. That is the Reid promise to you, Faith." Relaxed now, she laid her head on his shoulder as they drove back to the homestead in his old Chevy truck. He slipped one arm around her shoulders and the other stayed on the wheel. She snuggled closer. When they got back to the house, Scott carried her inside for she was sound asleep. The Path Waking up with morning light greeting her, she would jump out of bed with a smile on her face. Hopping down the stairs, she went into the kitchen to start making breakfast. Now her days consisted of helping feed the animals, milking the cows, cleaning the grounds, barn, and stables and putting fresh hay for the horses. Scott did the heavier jobs around the homestead: chopping firewood, mend the fences, and fixing the horse tact and equipment. In the afternoons, Scott saddled up two of the five horses and Faith and he would ride into the woods for their exercise. Faith would listen to his stories about his family. The original O'Reily family members were from Ireland, but left their home due to wonderful opportunities that the New World boosted to have. They sailed into New York City and found it to their distaste. Almost right off the ship, the whole family started west to from a new home. It was not until they found the lake in the middle of the Dark Oak Woods that they felt at home. No one will sale them the land because they were Irish. Not being without resources, the family changed their last name to Reid and bought the 100 acres of forest and grassland in Washington State before anyone knew better. While in the woods, Scott collected different plants, herbs, berries. His family back in Ireland was known for their homemade medicines and remedies. With each thing he collected, he explained to Faith what healing and helping qualities they had. Faith sat in wonder to all he said. When they would get back to the house, he would show her how to extract the juices from the plants and mix into the medicine that they used. Faith learned quickly and started to help him. Days became weeks and Faith found herself falling in love with Scott. She would catch herself watching him work without the shirt when the Washington weather permitted. She started to sit close to him or have him recline himself with his head in her lap and stretch out while they would read together on the couch. Faith found any reason to touch him, it being to brush his long hair, massage his aching shoulders and his back, or simply brush against him to place his plate in front of him. Scott felt the same way about Faith. He loved to watch her in the mornings bouncing around the kitchen in nothing but a tank top and shortie shorts that she slept in. Her laugh sounded like bell in his ears. The cute faces she made when she did not understand something or that time she burned dinner made him smile. He found any reason to pull her in his arms rather in being to comfort her after she burnt dinner, catching her as she tripped on a tree limb, help her off the horse, or to rock her back to sleep after she had nightmares. Scott and Faith were outside late one evening, playing with the baby goats when Scott felt a presence approaching from the woods. He signal for Faith to go hid in the barn while he checked to see who is was. The moment that Faith had shut the door to the barn, her father walked out of the woods. Scott had never seen Charles before, but the energy that radiated from him told Scott. "Excuse me, young man. I am looking for my daughter, Faith. She ran off a while ago and I can't find her. Have you seen her?" He said, fishing out a picture of Faith. The picture was old, taken five years ago. In the picture, Faith looked sad and scare. There was a hint of a split lip. Scott looked at the man and reckoned that Faith received her looks from her mother. "Sorry, sir, but I have not seen her around here. I wish I could help you." "If you do, will you give me a call." Charles started to pull a piece of paper from his pocket. "I don't have a phone." Scott said bluntly. Charles looked at him sharply and rubbed his face. "No phone? That must be paradise. My wife use to talk on the phone all the time. Drove me to drinking, it did." He laughed at his own jock. "Use to?" Scott asked. "Yea." Charles began without remorse. "She died about a week or so after that bitch of a daughter left. Broke her mama's heart that is what she did. I want to show that girl a thing or two about respect." He laughed again. Scott had about enough of him at that moment. "Sir, I have a lot of things to take care of and it is going to be dark soon. I suggest you take this time and go home when the sun is still out." "Now, now, son. You are acting like you are hiding something here." "I am not sir, only the fact that I do not like your kind of people." Scott hissed. "And what kind would that be?" Charles challenged him. "The kind who beats their children and spouse into submission. That was quite a split lip your daughter had in the picture. Now get off my property." Scott paused for dramatic affect. "Or suffer the Reid curse." "Reid?" The man started, trembling. "You are a Reid." The man gasped as a thick fog rose from the lake surface and snaked around their legs. The temperature had drop rapidly and both men could see their breath. Suddenly, a large, dark figure bolted from the barn and headed for the men. Scott was aware what was happening; he did not move. Charles, on the other hand, screamed and retrieved into the woods. "You scared the shit out of him." Scott said softly as Faith rode up to him on Shadow. With a black cloak she found in the tact room, she jumped on Shadow bareback and rode out the moment she saw the fog roll in. "I had to do it. I was scared that he was going to hurt you." Faith whispered as Scott jumped up onto Shadow. Sitting behind her, he pressed himself close to her while they rode back in his stable. Giving Shadow an extra pail of oats and putting the riding cloak away, Faith and Scott made a mad dash to the house. Once inside, a fire was started in the wood stove. "Faith, I have something to tell you." Scott said after the dinner dishes were cleared off the table. Faith turned from the sink. The look in his eyes told her what happened. "My mother is dead." Faith sat down at the table. Scott pulled a chair next to hers. Scott placed his arm around her and she rested her forehead on his shoulder. Scott gently caressed her cheek. Lifting her chin with his hand, Scott started to lean forward. "No." Faith whispered, placing her fingers against his lips. Confusion was in his eyes. "Kiss me because you love me." Faith continued. "Not to comfort me." She stood up from him and walked up stairs. Scott remained at the table for a while longer and then headed to his room to deal with his desire. Unknowing to him, she dealt with her own. Faith and Scott felt back into their normal routine within a couple of days. One day, the weather decided to be hot, so they worked a little faster to enjoy the sun. By noontime, a picnic lunch was made and a red checkered blanket laid out on the pier. Crossed legged, they ate happily. After the sandwich wrappers and coca cola cans were put back in the basket, Scott leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. Faith rested hers on his shoulders. Looking up at the clouds, they named off what they looked like and laughed. Soon, Scott heard Faith's soft snoring in his ear. Pulling her closer, Scott continued to look up at the clouds. Faith slowly woke to Scott gently lifted her off his shoulder and carefully placing her on the blanket. It was the sound of running feet and water splashing that caused her to sit up. Peering over the pier, she watched Scott swim about. "Faith!" He called to her. "Jump on in. The water is really warm." "Are you crazy?" Faith answered, now standing at the end of the pier. True, the water was nearly clear, but she was never too fond of swimming. "I am not wearing a swimsuit." Looking down at her demin shorts and tight green tank top; she wore her tennis shoes without socks. "Neither am I. Please, Faith. Join me." Scott playfully pleaded. Scott jumped in the water wearing long khaki short and black tank top. He changed his working boots for his tan tennis shoes before they walked out to the pier. Scott had planned to jump in the water already. "The water is not that deep here." Faith made a throaty noise and jumped in. When she resurfaced, her teeth were chattering. "Warm, my butt! It is cold." She yelled, splashing him. Scott laughed and splashed back. Wading farther in the lake to escape from his attack, Faith found herself on the edge of the drop off and went under. Faith fought her way back to the surface and screamed. "Scott, help!" Sinking under the water again. Only her hands broke the surface. Scott, not thinking for a second that she was faking, dived under the water to rescue her. Finding Faith struggling to reach the surface, Scott pulled her to him and started to ascend. Faith gasped for air and cough while he pulled them to the end of the pier. She clung onto Scott's neck. Scott held Faith close, shaking. "I'm so sorry, Faith. I am so sorry." "It is my fault. I should have told you that I couldn't swim." Faith said, trembling. Faith leaned down from Scott yet still had ahold on him. Looking in his eyes, she made a decision. She leaned towards his face. "Faith." Scott placed his fingers on her lips. "Kiss me because you are in love with me for I am in love with you. Not to comfort me." He caressed her cheek, then running his fingers down her throat. Faith never took her eyes from his. Faith started to lean towards him again. Scott met her halfway. Their lips pressed together. Faith opened her mouth and played her tongue against his lips and tongues. Twisting their arms around the other, their tongues entwined. Scott pressed Faith back against the pier support pole as their kiss deepened. Faith drew his body closer as she encased his waist with her legs. Oh, Faith. Scott thought, pressing his torso to her. Her breasts flatten against his chest and grinding their bodies together. Bending down, Scott lowered his lips to kiss her neck, shoulders, and tops of her breasts. His hands had found their way inside her top and stroke her rib cage and stomach. Scott fought the yearning to rip off hers and his clothes and buried himself inside and to remain there forever. "Scott." Faith whispered while began to fumble with the hem of his shirt. She wanted nothing but to feel his bare skin against her. She cried out as Scott slowly reached into her shorts. A noise above them made them froze. Looking up, Shadow had let himself out of his stables. He tossed his head back to the barn. "Something is wrong." Scott said. Suddenly, an image popped into his head. "Winter! She is having her foal now." Scott shot up the ladder and raced to the barn with Faith right behind him. Inside her stable, the white Arabian female named Winter Storm was in the last steps of giving birth to her foal, fathered by Shadow. She started to push right when Scott stepped in the barn. Pulling on the long medical gloves, Scott checked on Winter's progress. Faith went to the tact room and retrieved the towels that they had stored there. "Faith!" Scott cried out. Trotting to Winter's stable with the towels in her arms, she paused. There was blood and Scott panicked. "The foal is breeched. I have to turn it around. Hold her down." Faith dropped the towels and went to Winter's head. Lying across her shoulder, Faith whispered soothing words and stroked her head and neck. Scott was able to turn the foal around. "Okay, the foal is the right way. I am going to help Winter to getting it into the world." Scott began to gently, but firmly pull the foal. Winter gave one big push and the black and white foal was born. Pulling the foal from its mother, Scott realized that it was not breathing. Faith realized it too. Scott placed his mouth over the one of nostril of the foal and blew. Faith prayed while he performed CPR on the foal. Suddenly, the foal opened it eyes and sat up. Faith cried out on joy as the foal tried to stand up. Winter stood up and began to check on her baby. The foal tried to stand up again and succeed. Scott, taking off the gloves, walked to Faith. "What is it?" Faith asked. Scott dropped to his knee and looked. Shadow, whom was looking from the doorway made a neighing sound that got their attention. "Shadow, you are proud father of a beautiful colt. It was another three hours before they went back to the house. With Winter's blood loss, Scott had to stitch up where the tearing was. The vet was called and it took a while for him to come up. Looking Winter over and the new colt which was named Starry Night, Dr. Davidson gave them both a clean bill of health. "You did a fine job on that stitching. I don't believe I could have done better. You are going to make fine vet, Scott. Call me if anything else happens and when you graduate. You will have a job waiting for you." He said climbing into his truck. Scott ached from the pulling out the colt and the yard work. Faith drew him a warm bath while he finished the dinner dishes. At the top of the steps, Faith led him into the bathroom. Without a word, she began to strip his clothes off. Scott simple comply with her wordless orders to lift his arms and his feet. Scott could not see a way to hide the fact that her taking off his clothes was making him aroused. The moment that he was completely nude, he almost jumped into the large garden tub. Sitting on the edge, Faith gently unwove his hair from the braid. "Are you going to join me?" Scott whispered softly. She stood from the tub and was still. Scott feared that he spooked her until she started to take off her clothes. She came turned from him as she undressed. When the last article of clothing was slid out from, Faith turned around to face him. His eyes feasted on her body. Each curve and freckle was admired. The bruised had all faded and the scars looked less rigid. She pulled her own hair from the bun she whipped it into to help Scott. She climbed in behind Scott and began to wash his back and shoulders. Faith washed his body in silence. She paid attention to each muscle and ridge. Moving to face him, she slowly took the washcloth up and down his arms and chest. Moving farther down, she gently caressed his waist, stomach, and pelvis. He noticed that she held her breath as she cleaned his hard manhood. He forced himself not to moan as her hand with the cloth stroked him. He nearly lost his mind as she began to wash his balls. Her breathing became normal again when she begin on his legs. Scott had to moan for Faith was massaging his calves and feet. The moment Faith finished bathing him; Scott pulled her to his chest. Taking the cloth and soap, he began to clean her back and shoulders. Without moving in front of her, he softly cleansed her neck and breasts. Faith thrust her breasts up as the cloth played against her hard nipples. Adding more soap, Scott washed her stomach. His hands were under the water while he cleaned her lower torso and the outside of her thighs. She gasped, feeling his hands moved to inside of her thighs. The cloth began to stroke her outer lips of her pussy. Faith held her breath again while the strokes became firmer and covered more of her womanly entrance. Slowly spreading her legs farther, Faith felt his fingers touching her clit. Kissing her neck, Scott moved his hand down to the opening of her pussy. "Scott." Her voice trembled as he slowly slid his index finger inside of her. Faith was incredibly tight for being in the water. He began to move his finger in and out of her pussy. His other hand made its way to her clit. While his hands were busying, pleasing her, his mouth found hers. He kissed her hard and deep, his tongue exploded every inch of her mouth. Faith made throaty noises against his mouth. Her hands were engaged in caressing her breasts. Faith broke off from his mouth and began to pant. Her body became rigid as her muscles tighten around his finger. Faith shook violently as the orgasm over took her body. Her body slumped against his once the orgasm passed. He embraced her body tight against his. Scott's manhood was harder now and pressing into her back was not helping the matter. "Scott." He heard Faith whispered. Her eyes were soft and longing. She leisurely rose from his embrace. Turning to him, she straddled his legs. His manhood now rested on her stomach. Faith's breasts were nearly eye level to Scott. He ran his hands up her side, feeling her shiver. "Make love to me." The next few moments were a blur. Scott and Faith rinse off rather quickly. Drying off before Faith did, Scott wrapped her towel around her body and picked her up. Kissing her, he carried her into his bedroom. Gently lying her comfortable on his bed, he unwrapped the towel from her. Scott began to kiss her stomach, moving lower while her fingers caressed his scalp. Parting her legs, he placed kisses on her inner thigh and the exterior of her pussy. His tongue tasted her sweetness while his hands moved up, passed her trimmed red patch of hair and her jeweled belly button to her heaving breasts. Scott stroke and pinch her nipple all the while, Faith arched her back and buried his face into her pussy. Oh My GOODNESS. Faith screamed in her head. Scott had his index and middle fingers sliding in and out of her pussy. Continuing to flick his tongue on her clit, Scott thrust his fingers deeper within her. Faith moans and pleas became erratic before Scott touched the thin membrane that was her maidenhead. Tears welled up in Faith's eyes as she felt Scott leave from within her. He crawled up her body, placing kissed on her breast, shoulders, and neck. Scott kissed her soft, letting his tongue the taste of her mouth. He had positioned his manhood at her opening. "Wrap your legs around my waist, Faith." Scott said breathlessly. He shivered as her smooth legs moved against his body. Shallowly and gently, Scott moved into her wet, tight haven. Faith arched her back, gripping onto his arms. Scott held himself still when he reached her maidenhead. Their breathing hard while sweat formed on skin. "Make me yours." Faith moaned, rolling her hips. She kissed him, her tongue dancing against his as Scott continued to push into her. Both of them felt the pressure of his manhood against her maidenhead. Scott joined her cry as the maidenhood tore, allowing his manhood to slide the rest of the way inside. Time stood still before either moved. Faith stroked his back and kissed his cheek. Scott softly started to withdraw himself from her and ease his manhood back inside. Rising up, he began to thrust deeper with every stroke. Drawing Faith in his arms, Scott sat up. He buried his face in her breasts while he lifted her up and down on his manhood. Faith wrapped her arms around his neck, helping her to move her body around his manhood. Faith cried out, feeling an orgasm forming within her. Scott growled, tossing them back on the bed. Holding her legs around his waist, he thrust harder into her body. His hands moved locking around her hips. She arched her back, rolled her hips against his hands. Feeling his manhood swelling inside her, she rode with him. "Faith!" Scott nearly screamed. His eyes grew wide and his hair swooping around their sweaty bodies. "I pledge to you my love, devotion, and life. From this moment on, you are my wife, my lover, my friend. No one shall break this union between us. Our pledge to each other is unbreakable as well as eternal. Do you take me as your husband, your lover, and friend only from this night on? Pledge to me if you love me as much as I love you." "YES!" Faith cried out. "I pledge to you out of love. I take you as my husband, lover and only from now to evermore. I love you, Scott. I love you!" Faith screamed in ecstasy, her orgasm rolled and tossed her. She sank her fingernails into his shoulders and back. Scott moaned, leaning into her scratches. He had succumbed to his peak as her vaginal muscles tighten around his manhood. His seed shot deep within her womb during each thrust. As he became spent, he lowered himself to her. Rolling to his side, he pulled her in his arms. The Path Faith, her eyes slowly closed, looked into his eyes. Her fingers softly caressed his cheek. "I hope our baby will have your eyes." Cuddling closer, she fell fast asleep. * Sunlight crept in the windows as Faith felt Scott stirred against her. Propped up on one elbow, he watched her cuddled his chest. Smiling while she rose up, Faith kissed Scott. "You are beautiful in the morning light." Scott said, pulling her to his chest. "Scott, what you said to me last night. Those words were the most beautiful words I have ever heard." "Those words form the O'Reily Wedding Vows. Generations of my family has used those words for the last thousand years, or so." Scott smirked. "Usually they are recited at a church, not in the wedding bed." Faith giggled. Wrapping his arms around her body and snuggled close. He wanted to hold her for a bit longer before the day of work began. The long summer days slowly became shorten autumn times. Scott and Faith recited the same vows underneath the willow trees next to the lake. The light green wedding dress that Amy Reid made for Faith hid their little future from public view. The Reid name would live on. The Path The clouds were suspended over the church as we found our car in the light spring rain. The cooler temperature matched Tara's mood. Her exit from the parking lot matched her anger. "Please slow down," I calmly begged, knowing full well that Tara wouldn't. I'd given up hope after she ran the second red light in as many intersections. "Killing us both won't bring her back," I said as I watched her tighten her grip on the black leather steering wheel. Tara and Stephanie had been best friends since college. Last week's bicycle accident was as unexpected a tragedy as any of us could have imagined. They'd ridden through those woods for 15 years with the occasional bumps and bruises, but the fall that took Stephanie's life was a shock to Tara's core. As Tara pulled over to the side of the winding highway, I unbuckled my seat built. She was in no condition to drive after the funeral. For a week she was a rock for everyone because she was the closest person to Stephanie in the world. She executed everything from funeral arrangements to financial specifics. Tara was everybody's rock, but I wasn't sure if she had sustained her own head trauma during her wipeout. "Can you pull over more?" I asked as I looked over the back window at the traffic hurdling through the mist. "Why the fuck didn't she listen?" Tara whispered, hands still fixed to the wheel. "She could have stopped. Why didn't she fucking stop?" She gripped the steering with all her might. I just closed my eyes. Tara's pain was exploding while my guilt was eating away at me. Stephanie may have been Tara's college roommate and best friend, but three years ago Stephanie and I developed a closer relationship. *********** Tara was in Montreal for a conference when Stephanie built up enough courage to make her move. For years it was obvious that Stephanie had a crush on me. She'd always deny it, but Tara and I knew that she was infatuated with me. It was a joke for five years. And then it wasn't a joke. From practically the beginning of our relationship Tara and I weren't on the same page sexually. We were more than in love, but Tara grew less and less interested in sex as her career took off. My dick was a minor distraction in her world and she had no trouble telling me. "Please take care of that elsewhere," she'd tell me, but I didn't think that was what she really wanted. Every other week or month she'd apologize and we'd fumble through an intimate act that only frustrated both of us. We were making it work, somehow. The rest of our relationship was actually amazing, but the tension around our sex life made for some terrible fights. Truth be told, I found her career and personality both too intimidating and important to bother with my petty needs. One particular week she practically laughed at my needs. "If your dick was in that much need," she sneered, "you'd have bent me over and simply fucked me." That was her special kiss goodbye as she got into the limousine on her way to yet another speaking engagement in Paris. Humiliated and emasculated, I spent the better part of the week buried in work. I hit the gym at 6AM, at the office by 8AM and didn't get home until 10PM. Tara's apology texts went unanswered as I feared her return Saturday morning. When I pulled into the garage Friday evening, I found Stephanie's car in the third section of the three car garage. I could hear the vacuum cleaner in the family room, but I chose to keep to the kitchen. As I made myself a sandwich I heard the vacuum turn off and the worst version of Sade's 'Smooth Operator' take it's place. Stephanie obviously had her headphones on and hadn't realized anyone else was in the house. As she danced into the family room, I was greeted by a Raiders t-shirt and an orange thong that was not quite the typical maid's uniform. Tara and Stephanie were best friends in the same way that Tara and I were married. Tara made the rules and Stephanie willingly followed. From job choices to boyfriend breakups, Stephanie was dependent on Tara's advice. Their relationship was so close that I wondered if Tara's lack of sexual interest in me was related to her connection with Stephanie. Of course I didn't have the courage to ask Tara so I brought it up to Stephanie. "Not our thing," Stephanie simply denied. I was kind of hoping it was, but that was the last of that conversation. "Oh, Jesus!" Stephanie screamed as she finally realized I was behind the island watching her one woman show. "Why didn't you tell me that you were home, asshole?" she shouted as she caught her breath and fell to the couch. "Didn't think I had to announce myself in my own house," I replied. I tried to focus on my turkey on whole wheat, but my dick was captivated by what that orange thong was trying unsuccessfully to contain. "Tara asked me to straighten up the house before you she got home because she said you were MIA," Stephanie explained as she tried to wiggle her thighs into her t-shirt. "Where have you been?" she questioned accusingly. "Working," I answered flatly. "Working so hard you can't text your wife?" Stephanie barked back. "At least I can wear pants," I snickered in return. "Shut up!" Stephanie laughed. "They're in your wash," she said as she bounced up from the couch and scuttled up to the island so I couldn't see below her waist. "Barbecue stain," she sighed. "I bet," I continued to snicker. Stephanie was an amazingly beautiful woman, but she never felt comfortable about her shapely curves. She hit the gym constantly to keep fit but no amount CrossFit could contain what God bestowed upon her. In contrast, Tara could eat anything and stay supermodel thin. "Fuck you," Stephanie laughed. My not-so-subtle jab at her weight was clearly a reminder of what Tara had been punching since they were freshmen in college. "At least you'll have something new to think about when you're jacking off tomorrow night!" "Why don't you give me a little show to remember?" I pushed back. "I don't get that much eye candy around here." Stephanie stepped back from the granite island with a stubborn defiance. Her muscular frame held up her round dimensions and my eyes recorded every inch. "Is this what you'd like to see?" Stephanie softly spoke, her typically high pitched voice turning sultry. In that moment the joke was over. We were no longer mimicking Tara's cruel treatment of our faults. We were two adults alone with a clear need for a connection. A connection that involved positive vibes. "You know that your body is what Tara wishes she had," I said I stared with an appreciation and sincerity typically reserved for exquisite works of beautiful art. "I don't think I care what Tara wants right now," Stephanie responded as she shyly pulled her black & silver t-shirt over her head. Her near naked body was something I'd imagined for years as a simple curiosity. As she walked toward the kitchen I forgot about all of the mean jokes we'd told each other over the years. Those jokes that amplified Tara's dominance of us were what kept us from noticing each other. Those jokes kept my dick from throbbing in Stephanie's majestic presence. But Stephanie traded those shallow swipes at my dignity for a validation of her womanly beauty. There were no more mean words in Stephanie's mouth that evening. Just my dick. ********* "You're driving isn't that much better," Tara sneered as I turned our SUV into our serene neighborhood. I slowed the truck as I navigated the puddles before turning into our driveway. While I waited for the garage door to open, Tara unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the truck in the pouring rain. She couldn't spend another second in my presence and she needed to cool off. A week ago she watched her best friend fall 1000 feet and she hadn't said a word about it. I didn't know what to do. So I sat in the truck. In the rain. In the driveway. With the garage door up. ********* For two years Stephanie and I took quiet advantage of Tara's frequent business trips. Our foreplay consisted of mean-spirited daggers at our personal insecurities in Tara's presence and then radio silence until the last day of Tara's trip. The tension of openly sparring in front of Tara and potentially getting busted made for an amazing two years of happiness. Even Tara seemed content knowing her two closest people were twistedly enjoying each other's company and I was a lot less horny when she got home. Of course I faked it a little, but I was less cranky when her answer to my requests was 'handle it yourself, pervert'. Then, as expected, everything changed. For two years Stephanie and I had kept our encounters playful. Oral and handjob were the menu's only choices. We were naughty but the thrill was easy and freeing. My face between her thighs or her hands in my boxers were therapeutic releases. No condoms or lube or preparation. What was clearly planned had the feeling of spontaneity. We had a secret instead of an affair. We were like teenagers full of nervous energy and bound hormones. Unfortunately that playfulness ended when Stephanie showed up at our house one day into Tara's weeklong trip to Sydney. I was working on my laptop on the back porch when I heard the garage door open. I was in my boxers because it was a warm evening and our backyard faced the dense woods. As I kept working an hour passed and I assumed that Stephanie was just in the neighborhood and needed a place to crash. She was the only other person with a key to our house. Maybe she was watching TV and enjoying a free meal. As the sun dropped into the crowd of trees behind our house, I heard the patio door slide open. Before I saw Stephanie's naked body I smelled the wine. I was thoroughly confused. Without a word or eye contact she took me by the hand and led me to the couch placed in the middle of the deck. There was no witty banter or laughter on her lips - just a tinge of red wine. This was heavy because I realized my face had never been this close to hers. While her hands were clearly wrapped around my growing dick, her mouth was someplace new - my neck. Soft kisses were piling onto my clavicle as I questioned where to put my hands. They'd only ever been in her afro, in her pussy or on her breasts. But they remained to my side because the only obvious choice was wrapped around her waist as she began to straddle me. This was no longer playful. This was intimacy. She never kissed my lips but I knew what was next. The taste of the red wine couldn't mask the sense of passion that accompanied her wet kiss. I could feel her easing my growing dick into her warm pussy, but I was too engulfed in her quiet kiss to really notice. I sat like a statue trying not to place my hands on her waist as her teeth gently bit my upper lip. As Stephanie rested her hands on my shoulders I realized that she no longer saw me as a fun release but rather a partner in joy. Her hips barely moved but I could feel her pussy squeezing my dick with gentle hugs. And with each passing minute, the hugs got tighter and the pressure of her biting intensified. For two years we laughed at the guttural moans we shared under each other's stimulation, but this was thunderously silent. As her thighs tightened around my waist I fought the urge to wrap my hands around her waist the way the dark sky clinched our scene. A slow tremble melted over my nervous dick as her legs shivered and her nipples pierced my chest. The exaggerated writhing of her hips and boisterous swearing of her mouth that accompanied my tongue between her legs had been replaced by a blissful silence that brought focus to the rhythmic contraction of her pussy that slowly drew the life out of me. And lastly I could feel her nails gracefully trace into my back shoulders with the precision of a caligrapher's pen. The sting I felt from those intense scratches as the humid air rested within the shallow wound woke me from my trance. We had shared more than 100 moments of cum soaked laughter over the previous 700 days, but our math was inverted that warm evening. And before I could make rhyme or reason of our situation, she had exited as quietly as she entered. I could have held her there to stay. But in truth I never held her. ************ I finally entered our house with the sole intent of taking care of my wife in her time of need. My steps were calculated and my breath was deliberate. I knew she was cold and wet in the living room, but I stopped in the kitchen to make her favorite tea. The house could feel the unbalance as Tara was losing control and I was looking to steady the ship. "She wasn't supposed to..." Tara tearfully started as I placed her Brazilian tea on the table in front of her crossed legs. I patiently waited for her to finish her thought because in the last week she only spoke in cold facts about how she'd lost her best friend. She was being her usual strong and controlling self around friends and family, but from the time we left the cemetery I could feel her beginning to unravel. Then Tara broke down in sobbing tears. I was as frozen as I was when Stephanie decided to join me on the back patio a year prior. I clearly sucked at these situations, but I had to be better this go round. After that evening on the back patio, Stephanie and I never connected again. We only saw each other in the presence of Tara. Our time alone during Tara's trips were never discussed. Even our ongoing jabs that acted as foreplay in front Tara ceased. We had nothing. "She couldn't stay on the fucking path!" Tara grunted as she reached for her tea. "I told her ass to stay focused, but she didn't listen. Stupid girl!" I'd heard her explain the accident 20 times over that last week. To the police. To Stephanie's parents. To everyone. I could retell every moment as if I'd been there. In vivid detail I could describe beautiful morning air that sung with spring lyrics. I knew the dewy green grass that lined the path below the three evergreen trees. I could see the spokes cave as Stephanie's tire hit a patch of rocks scattered on the right edge of the path. I could hear Stephanie's nervous laughter shift to frightened swearing as she lost control of her front wheel near the sharp turn at the bottom of the path along the hill. I felt the momentum that carried Stephanie over the edge of the rocky terrain. I could identify every thorny shrub that scarred Tara's legs as she climbed down the hill to find the remains of her closest friend. I could hear Tara dialing 911 while she held Stephanie in her arms as the sun glowed bright. Tara needed a 911 call now. For herself. I could see the hurt in her eyes, so I kissed her on her forehead and ran upstairs to run her a warm bath. Warm tea and warm bath were the best answers I could think of to drown her tears. As I ran the water and took off my tie I could feel her presence enter our bathroom. She'd heard the water and disrobed. Inside I might have been confused as to what to do, but on the outside I was becoming her rock. "I don't deserve you," Tara spoke softly as she walked up to me. I gently placed my hands upon her waists. With a slow focus she helped me removed my clothes until we both stood naked under the sunlight that began to break through the clouds outside of our window. Her thin brown frame then began to lean into my chest as she steadied herself with my arms. Only one part of my body was prepared for her eventual position as my eyes fixated on her ass moving further from me as her mouth wrapped itself onto my dick. She sucked me with an intensity that was as pointed as her neglect had been awash in our marriage. I found myself frozen again, but this time I held on to my instigator with a love that felt rewarded for enduring the unrequited passion that coated my every inch. And in an instant I released every ounce of love that I had on reserve into Tara's welcoming mouth. As I slowly regained my composure, she led me to the tub. We carefully climbed in and I sat behind her while she sank into my chest. The hot water cooled to the perfect temperature. For ten minutes we sat in silence until I asked if she was "going to be okay?" Tara arched her head backward toward me and grabbed my hand, gently resting my palm against her neck. I could still feel the tears falling onto my wrists when I felt her tense up. Then with a subtle nod I could feel her swallow. Swallow me. As my brain processed her actions I couldn't control my smile. And I could feel her smile as well. Relaxed. Then with a ballerina's deft Tara stood up and turned toward me. The warm water trickled down from her hardened nipples onto my bald head. She then threw her legs over my shoulders and leaned back. Her hands gripped the sides of the tub while her pussy began to grind the smile off of my face. With my tongue I wrote 'I love you' over and over. Her hips thrashed as her ass splashed heaps of water onto our bathroom floor. I gripped Tara's waists like I planned to hold her there until the end of time. I wasn't going to ever let go. Her wet pussy was engorged and she began to convulse as though she was about to cum. Tara released her death grip from the tub and leaned on my knees while her pelvis worked her pussy onto my face. Worried that she might fall I reached behind me and gripped her ankles to anchor the intense whipping her pussy was dishing out. "Oh fuck!" Tara shouted as I tightened my grip on her ankles. I could feel the scars from the shrubs. Most of the scabs had fallen away, but I could feel the patterns. "Fuck!!" Tara shouted as her thighs nearly squeezed the life out of me. She was fucking my face with too much enthusiasm to realize my mind was now focused on the scratches on her legs. The deep scratches on her legs that felt as though they were written by a skilled caligrapher. As though the signature included the pain of an unrequited love. "Fuck!!" Tara gasped as she held one last squeeze against my face. As her ass sank into the water and she collapsed onto my legs, she saw the look of understanding in my eyes. "Stupid girl," Tara snarled at me as she closed her eyes to hold back the tears or to enjoy the afterglow. "I told her to stay on the path."