Red Roses for a Blue Lady

Does anyone beside me remember that Bobby Vinton hit?  Or Bobby Vinton for that matter.  I guess I'm dating myself. 

I've managed to come up with a couple of new stories this week, first time in a while I'm actually a week ahead of the game.  All that thinking must have addled my brain because I can't think of a thing to write now.  So without further ado, here's this week's story. 

Jack Hawkins ordered a dozen long-stemmed red roses be delivered to Jill by the end of the day.  He hoped it would make up for disappointing her yet again. If the roses got there before he did perhaps she would take the news that they couldn’t go away this weekend a little better. He had been promising this weekend for months, but his group was working a project that needed completion yesterday.  They kept running into problems, and another one popped up today canceling his weekend off. 

When he pulled into the driveway, he noticed her car wasn’t in the garage.  He wasn’t concerned; she could be shopping or late getting home herself.  He walked into the kitchen and called out.  No response.  He looked around for a note, then remembered the flowers.  He went to the front door and there was the note from the florist stating they had tried to deliver.  He checked his phone, no messages.  He dialed her cell phone, and the message went straight to voicemail.  He fixed himself a drink and was about to sit down and give her another thirty minutes or so, when he felt his phone vibrating.  It was a text message saying she’d be late getting home, but he would love the reason.

Feeling relieved, he called the florist and asked for redeliver, rang their local Italian eatery and ordered their favorite dinners for delivery, then sat down and enjoyed his drink.  The doorbell rang and it was the florist, glad they arrived before Jill did.  He removed the card and just left them on the counter in the kitchen where she would see them. 

The garage door opened, and he went to greet Jill.  She was loaded with packages.

“You’re going to love what I found for this week…” She never even finished the sentence when she spotted the roses.

“We’re not going, are we?”

“I’m sorry, honey; we ran into a problem, and I have to work this weekend.”  He tried to hug her, and she walked away from him. He knew how bad she wanted this weekend; he wanted it too.  He left her alone while she processed her disappointment.  He poured her a glass of wine and went to sit.  It wasn’t long before she joined him.  She came in, sat in his lap and cuddled into him.

“I know you can’t help it, but I so wanted this weekend for us.”

“I know, Babe, and it will happen, I just can’t tell you when.”

She kissed him and said she would go start dinner.  “No need, I called Noni's, and they should be here soon. “

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Babe.”

The food came and after dinner, she decided she would treat him to a modeling show of the items she purchased for their weekend together.  She left him sitting in his chair as she retreated into the bedroom. 

Her first outfit was a red wrap dress in a clingy material that hugged her breasts, flared just below the waist and swished when she walked.  She strolled past him and as she started to retreat, she ‘accidentally’ pulled aside the front, so he could see the garter belt and thigh-high hose she wore.  He readjusted his position on his chair.

The next time she came out, she had on what appeared to be a beach cover-up and beneath it a red bikini.  As she provocatively removed the cover up, he smiled knowing that she would never have the courage to wear that anywhere but in the safety of their hotel room, but he loved that she did it for him, but damn she looked good.  Maybe with a little encouragement I might be able to get her to wear that in the light of day, he thought to himself.

His pants were getting tighter by the minute as she strolled into the room and back to the bedroom.  Her next outfit was a French maid’s costume.  Little frilly apron, garter belt and hose, fuck me black heels, a little cap, holding what looked like a riding crop.  He almost dropped his jaw as she paraded by him dragging the crop across his lap as she passed and looked over her shoulder and crooked her finger in a come with me move.  He damn near fell trying to get out of his chair to follow her.

He tried to take her in his arms, and she scooted just beyond him. 

“Did you like the fashion show?” she asked.

“You know I did, come here and see how much.”

“No, it’s okay.  I can see.”  He tried reaching for her again, and once more she scooted just beyond his reach.

“Why do you keep moving away?”

“It’s kind of like our getaway weekend, isn’t it; always out of reach.”

“You’re not going to pull that card, are you?”

“I merely want you to want to have something to look forward to also.”

“Does that mean I can’t touch you until we go away?”

“Of course not.  You just can’t have me tonight.”

“You know that’s not part of our agreement.”

“I know that.”

“You know that’s a spankable offense.”

“Yes, it is, it also would be a punishment spanking, and we don’t do sex after punishment, so you still won’t get what you want.” 

“But I make the rules.”

“But I can withdraw my consent.”

“You win this round, I guess I’ll go take a cold shower.”

“Good idea.”

While he showered, she removed her French maid’s outfit and put the rest of her clothing away.  She knew she had proven her point this evening, and even though he may not have a final say in whether or not he worked a weekend, he had some say.  If the weekend was important to him, she was sure he could have worked out something.  Now, he too, had a reason to want to take a weekend away.

She pulled down the bedcovers and crawled in.  She was laying there reading when Jack walked into the bedroom, the towel wrapped low around his hips, his wet hair hanging down, little water beads covering his chest.  She wanted to jump his bones, he looked so damn good.  Jill pretended she was deep into her Kindle and not paying any attention to him; he noticed she was faking and when he turned, he purposely dropped the towel, so she had a full view of his ass in the mirror, and his cock was almost in her face. The cold shower had not done much to alleviate his problem.  He watched her squirm in bed and laughed to himself. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who was experiencing a problem.

Jack finally climbed into bed, Jill reached over and kissed him good night.  She heard his breathing change, and soon the snores began.  She reached over to her nightstand drawer and pulled out her rabbit.  She was in the midst of enjoyment when suddenly the light turned on, and she was caught – red handed- so to speak.

“Oh no you don’t.  If I don’t get any relief, neither do you.  He jerked the vibrator out of her hand and heaved it across the room.  His next move removed the covers from her, and he hauled her over his knee, pulled up her nightie and spanked her ass.  He started slowly, rubbing and kneading, and her own heat level rose.  The spanks came harder, and harder, and then he stopped to lecture her. Jill hated being lectured, and she tried rolling away from him.  He pulled her in closer, pinned her down and really started spanking in earnest.  He covered every inch of her behind, sit spots and thighs; he was almost through because his hand hurt, and he knew her beautiful butt had to; it was practically glowing, and he could feel the heat.  He finally felt her let go, and he stopped.  He let her lay there until she started to move, then he righted her and pulled her to him.

He kissed her hair and ran his hands up and down her back, while she cuddled to him. He whispered against her ear “Neither one of us got what we wanted tonight, did we?”

“Speak for yourself.” She whispered back.  He pulled his head back and laughed.

“That may be Babe, but my ass won’t be sore in the morning.”

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.

The Star-Crossed Cowboy

ANNOUNCING THE ARRIVAL OF THE STAR-CROSSED COWBOY

You know me and westerns

Can a man work for a woman?  That's the question Jude Barlow must answer.

LSF PUBLICATIONS

AMAZON

The Cougar

First day of December, woo hoo.  Not really, it means that 2014 is over for all intents and purposes.  It went by entirely too quickly.  Isn't it funny that when you're young time seems to standstill and the older you get the quicker it flies by.  There never seems to be enough time to get everything done.

We had a great time while our "kids" were here.  Of course, the time went by so fast it was a mere blip on the radar but we enjoyed the time we had. We'll be going to CA for Christmas so it won't be long before we see them again, but that will go by just as quickly.

Today's story is a quickie I just penned the other day. The idea came from a song by George Straight I was listening to as I walked   I seem to be having more and more trouble coming up with a weekly story, not as many voices in my head.  Ray seems to think this one ends too abruptly so I assume I will be receiving comments about a sequel.  Let me say right up front, that may or may not be forthcoming because as of right now, it's not in the cards. 

The Cougar 

She walked in the door and saw an envelope propped up on the kitchen table.  She laid her purse and keys on the counter, and picked up the note on the way to the bedroom to change her clothes and get started on dinner.  Sitting down on the bed, she slit open the envelope and removed the note.

   

       Sheila,

        I’m sorry.  I don’t love you anymore and life is too short to continue this way.

                                                                                                    George

                

Her feelings at that moment were a confused jumble.  This had to be a joke was her first reaction. After the initial shock, she rose, went to the closet and saw emptiness where his clothes once hung.  She went to his dresser and found it empty.  It was then, she realized it wasn’t a joke and the sonofabitch was gone.  He didn’t even have enough gumption to tell her in person, after twenty-five years of marriage, he leaves a goddamn note. 

Her feelings in that moment in time shifted between hurt and rage.  Pouring herself a glass of wine, she sat down and thought about the last few days or weeks, wondering if there were telltale signs she missed.  She couldn’t think of any, not that it mattered, he was gone.  Once, she got herself together she began moving forward.

The first call she made was to their daughter.

“Have you heard from your dad?” Sheila asked.

“Not since the other day, why?”

“He left.”

“What do you mean he left?”

“I came home to find a note telling me that he didn’t love me anymore and he packed up his things and left.”

“So that’s what that call was about.”

“What do you mean?”

Lori told her mother about the strange phone call she had received from her dad a couple of days earlier.  He kept telling her how much he loved her and to know he would always love her. 

“At first, I thought he was sick or something, but he said no, he just wanted me to know no matter what happened he loved me.  I thought it was strange but then I was in the middle of something and didn’t give it much thought.  What are you going to do, Mom?

Are you going to try to get him back?”

“First off, I have no idea where he is and secondly, why would I want someone who doesn’t want me and can be so unfeeling towards me that  after twenty-five years together he walks out leaving a note.  I wish the sonofabitch well and don’t care what he does, I’m better off without him.”

                                                     _________________________

Sheila had a couple of rough weeks after that regardless of her initial reaction. A couple of days after finding the note, she received a call from their attorney telling her that George had signed the house and half of their savings over to her.  He said that if she wanted to file for divorce, he was quite sure he could get her alimony.  She told him she would think about it.

She put the house on the market and took a two-week trip to Hawaii. It was a place she  always wanted to go but George hated the tropics so they always ended up in Maine or New Hampshire or some other place of his choice. 

At first, it was difficult traveling alone.  Having no one with whom to share the experience detracted from some of the pleasure and dining alone was the hardest thing she had ever done, but after a few days things became easier.  She realized that not having a companion had its advantages.  She found she enjoyed not having to answer to anyone, to sleep in if she wanted, to skip breakfast, to have a cocktail before five.  And dinner alone, she liked that if she just wanted dessert she didn’t have to hear a lecture about healthy eating. 

There was a letter from George waiting for her when she returned from Hawaii. He said he made a horrible mistake and asked if she would take him back.  She called the attorney and filed for divorce.

Over the next six months, Sheila changed her whole life.  She bought herself a condo with the proceeds of the house sale, a new convertible instead of the four door monstrosity she used to drive, joined a gym and found herself a job she loved instead of her old eight to five grind job. Her life was better than ever and her confidence level was at an all time high.

It was six months before she accepted a solo date even though men constantly asked her out.  The man was a friend of a friend and he asked her to accompany him for a sailing regatta.  She explained she had never sailed before and he told her it was about time she did.  She loved sailing and Evan was a great companion.  He was charming, witty, good looking and twelve years younger. They dated several times before she found out that little piece of information and when she did she tried to break off with him.

“Why?”

“You’re twelve years younger than me.  You’re a good looking guy and shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone your own age.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t, but I happen to like you.  We have a good time together and everything was fine until you found out that little fact.  Why should it make a difference?”

“It just does.”  Evan was upset with her logic and even more upset when she refused any future dates and would not accept any of his calls.

The last message Evan left said he would not call her anymore.  If she wanted him she knew how to get in touch.  She missed Evan’s company but she was determined it was a relationship doomed to failure because of their age difference.  She began seeing another man her own age, she made sure of that right from the start.  He took her to the best restaurants, the opera, the ballet and treated her like a queen. The trouble was there was no spark like there was with Evan. 

One evening, she and Jon were returning from a date and someone was sitting on her doorstep.  Startled at first, she recognized Evan as they got closer.  He stood up, acknowledged them both. Finally, Sheila spoke.

“Hello Evan, what are you doing here?”

“I blinked first,” he told her.  She understood what he meant. Turning to Jon, she thanked him for a nice evening.  “I hope you don’t mind, but Evan and I have some things to discuss.”

Perplexed, Jon reached in for a good-night kiss and Sheila turned her cheek toward him. When he walked away, Sheila unlocked her door and she and Evan went inside.

“Is he the reason you stopped seeing me?”

“Of course not, you know why.”

He pushed her against the wall and placed his hands on either side of her face. He stared at her for a moment before moving in a crushing her lips in a passionate kiss.  She tried pushing him away but he moved his body in further and she could feel his erection growing against her belly.  He continued the kiss, and he felt her beginning to melt. The heat of her mouth as she slid her tongue into his mouth enflamed his desire and he moved in closer still. Her desire began to mount as he continued the onslaught of her mouth and she moved her body against his grinding her hips into his engorged penis. It was then that little voice in her head whispered, ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing, you’re too old for him’ and this time when she pushed him away, she really pushed and broke the contact between them.  “Keep away from me, don’t touch me,” she hissed at him.

She could see the surprise and disappointment in Evan’s eyes.  She watched the pulse in his forehead and could sense the tremble of his body as he processed what had happened.

“Why you little tease.  You deserve a good spanking.”

“Get real, little man.”

He took hold of her wrist and led her over to the couch and placing his hand on the small of her back, pulled her across his lap.  He lifted her dress and could see her porcelain white globes split by a lacy black thong and framed by a garter belt holding up silky black stockings. He thought about how he was going to enjoy turning those perky cheeks a blushing pink and felt a twitch in his crotch.  He wondered if she felt it too as she was pressed across his lap.  ‘So much the better,’ was what he was thinking as he brought his large hand down on that perfect fanny.  Everything happened so quickly, Sheila didn’t realize that he was really going to spank her.  When that first smack fell, she kicked ferociously only to have him scissor her legs and continue to land smack after smack on her now blushing pink cheeks. As Sheila felt the heat in her bottom and the wetness between her legs, she relaxed into the spanking and was soon trying to maneuver her burning sex into his knee to bring herself some relief.  She had wanted a little more time to think about their differences, especially how it would translate to the bedroom but right now she didn’t care, she was so turned on she just wanted him to take her.  He heard her soft mewing sounds and stopped spanking. He pushed his fingers into her soft silky folds bringing her more pleasure than she had experienced in a long time. Their adventure continued after he carried her into her bedroom and placed her on her back as his body covered hers and his throbbing member invaded every inch of her sex.

Sex with George had never been like this.  Evan played her body like a finely tuned violin and she experienced more orgasms in a single night than she had in the last year. She realized she didn’t care if he was twelve years younger; he was exciting and adventurous and she wanted him to continue to introduce her to things she had only dreamed of before now. 

See you later for more Aimless Ramblings.