I Never Liked

Just to reinforce the thought, I gave her a matching handprint on the other cheek... There were no words of endearment, no soft sighs, this was a classic grudge fuck, plain and simple, on both sides.

Her legs were starting to tremble, and I knew she'd fall soon, so I pitoned in and out mercilessly. She had one more orgasm and I came so hard it felt like I was exploding. I eased her down on the soft grass, and watched her cry for a minute, before lying down and cuddling her. wondering the whole time why.

We went to sleep, and it was late afternoon. Alice was still semi-asleep, but her hand was locked down on my erection, I eased her off and on to her back. She became fully awake just as I was at her entrance. "Wait Mark! I'm sore!"

By then I had passed the gates of heaven, and she surrendered. It was hard or furious, just steady motion that became faster and faster. She had two orgasms before I lost another torrent inside her. Alice lay still for a minute before looking up, and giving me a smile. "I need to clean up before I leave. Will you help me?"

Alice was a tall woman, lean, slender, while I was six one and weighed 195 pounds. You don't get fat in the lumber trade, and I picked her up like she was a baby and walked into the water, setting her down in about four feet, and sluiced water over her with my hands, washing away twigs, grass, and small leaves. I might have paid a little extra attention to her ass, softly tracing my handprints. She was busy with the front, including scrubbing her pubes as well as she could.

"I need to get clean, or I'll leak your seed out of me all the way home, you bastard."

It was said softly, with no malice and I grinned into her hair. "I'm not washing off. I like your smell on me, bitch."

Alice turned around and kissed me again, rubbing her body over me until she felt me start to stiffen. "Damn Mark, does that thing ever rest? We're standing in cold water, for God's sake!"

"You got me plenty warm, Alice, but you're right, we need to get out."

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I had forgotten I had hidden her clothes, and she had a mild case of panic. "Relax, I know I laid them around her somewhere."

I grabbed my jeans and boots, slipping into them. I came out of the bushes with just her trainers. "Well, at least I found your shoes. Now your feet won't hurt on the way to the road."

"That shit ain't funny, honey. Please give me my clothes."

I don't know what shocked me more, that she knew the word please, or that she called me honey. "I will, babe, when we get to your car."

"Somebody might see me!"

"If they do, it'll ruin them for regular women. Come on, I'll walk you. I'll even hold your hand."

She slipped her hand in mine. "If anybody sees me, you bastard, I'll make your life miserable."

"Well, at least it's something your good at." I said it flippantly, and she surprised me by bursting into tears. I cuddled her again, thinking maybe she really had ruined me for other women.

"Come on, bitch, or I'll freshen up the prints on your ass." Alice unconsciously rubbed her butt, wincing slightly, and molded tightly, and mostly behind me. I grinned when we reached her clothes, and pretended to be surprised. "Well look here."

"Bastard," she said as she scrambled to get into her clothes. "Where are my panties?"

"In my pocket. You won't be getting them back; I'm going to print your name in big letters and hang them on my rearview mirror."

Alice looked horrified for a second, then grinned. "No, you won't. But go ahead and keep them. Maybe sniff then when you get to missing me. Now give me your phone."

I handed it to her and she texted herself, grinning when she heard the ding. I had unlocked the gate and we were standing by her car door. "Now, open the door for me, and give me a proper kiss. Not a I'm gonna suck your tongue out kiss, a man likes woman kiss"

I kissed her gently before nipping her lip, walking off laughing while she ranted.

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I went to my parent's house for dinner, and Mom noticed my mood. "Good day?"

"Very good day. Dad, I think it's time to harvest most of the black walnuts on the Hastings' west tract. The lease will be up soon, relatively speaking, and the price is soaring right now."

He just nodded. "Your section, your decision. Full equipment, or selected cutting?"

"Selected. I want to disturb the smaller trees as little as possible. Two cutters, two dozers to drag them to the loading point, three big rigs. We'll put out the word, and start taking bids. That section alone will pay back everything we had invested. We get done with that, we'll harvest the bigger oaks off the ridges, some of them are monsters. I'll line them up for the end of next week, tell Miz Hastings the time has finally come. She'll be sad to see them go, and she probably won't live long enough to see them all fall, but she'll have the money for her kids and grandkids."

Miz Hastings had a family that she very rarely saw. I think the only reason they came by at all was to stay in her graces long enough to make sure they were in her will. She was 89 years old and lived alone, so one of my family would check on her two or three days a week. Mom would bring her a cake or a pie, and the old woman would talk happily for an hour or better.

Then she fell, landing on her arm and the brittle bones shattered on impact. Mom was on her speed dial and she called, crying in pain. Mom got there just before the ambulance and rode with her to the hospital. After the surgeon had set her bones as best he could, he talked to Mom outside her room. "She can no longer live alone. Does she have family that can step up?"

"She has family, but I doubt any of them would provide care for her."

"Then I recommend assisted living, or a home caregiver. I have a list of certified assistants available, if you'd like to get her to think about it."

We visited every day, and it took Mom a lot of talking, but she agreed to a live in caregiver. Once she was home, they interviewed a couple of dozen before they made a decision. Ava was fifty, widowed, her family living on the other coast, so she took care of her four days a week. Geraldine was a licensed practical nurse who stayed with her the other three days, and monitored her health. She thrived under the attention, and was as spry as I'd ever seen her.

I left one of the company UTVs at her house, and they would take it out in the woods and fields once or twice a week if the weather was good. She took them to a spot, a mostly empty field dominated by a big oak, and told them it was in her will to be buried there. Ava knew a lawyer, and he prepared papers designating four acres as a registered cemetery, which meant it didn't matter who owned the land in the future, they could never bother it.

I made it a point to come by and tell her we were going to cut. She sighed. "I knew it was coming, and I know your company is renowned for ethical practices, but I'm sad to see them go.

We took her on a picnic the Sunday before we started cutting, so she could remember it as it was. She cried a little and pointed out a large holly tree. "My husband carved our initials in that tree in 1959. I wonder if it's still there."

I looked later and they were, stretched by time and growth until they covered half the trunk and you could barely make them out. It would never survive the logging, so before they started, I cut it down, preserving it as best I could. Mom gave it to her and said she cried so hard Geraldine got concerned.

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As I was taking items out of my shorts I found her panties, grinning as I put them in a drawer. Instead of calling her the next day, I sent her a text, which pissed her off. She called me, fussing, so I hung up. I hung up the next three times before she was civil.

In a quiet voice she asked if I was interested in her. I was honest. "I don't know, Alice. I've only regarded you as human since yesterday. You're the best fuck I've ever had, and you seem sweet when you don't have your bitch persona going. If I were to ask you for a date, who would show up?"

There was a bit of silence. "I would. All of me. When I get out of control, call me down. If I do something extra sweet, give me a kiss. That's the best I can do."

I had to think for a minute. "All right then, fair enough. I'll pick you up at seven, Wear a dress."

"Why?"

"Because I said to," I told her as I hung up.

I showed up at ten to seven, wanting to be punctual. They literally lived in the house on the hill, a brick monstrosity that looked neither attractive or efficient, just big. I rang the bell on the ten-foot-tall door, and her mother answered. I don't think I'd ever seen her before, and as I looked into her mirthful eyes, I thought whoever ended up with Alice would be very happy in twenty-five years.

She ignored my hand and hugged me, whispering in my ear. "I'm very happy to finally meet you. This moment has been ten years in the making."

I didn't have time to process or asked as she dragged me into the living room. I met her dad, and sparks flew immediately. He was a condescending prick. I think Alice got a lot of her attitude from him. He immediately went into a list of demands, including what time to bring her home, how I should act, and that this was probably the only time I'd ever see her.

Then he started on my family, and the gloves came off. "You need to shut the hell up and leave my family out of this. One more disrespectful word and I'll slap that smirk off that pompous ass. We understand each other?"

By then I was standing over him, five inches taller, thirty years younger, and not smiling.

"You can't speak to me like that in my own house!"

"You're absolutely right. Ma'am, it was a pleasure to meet you."

She was smiling, which pissed him off. "It was a pleasure to meet someone who doesn't try to kiss Harold's butt. You come back any time, and I'll welcome you with open arms."

Just then Alice came down the stairs, wearing a shimmering tan dress that set off her blond hair and blue eyes. I stopped talking. Her giggle floated down before her. "I see you met Mom and Dad."

"I did. Your mother is a lovely woman. Your father is an asshole of epic magnitude. Shall we go?"

Her father was still in the living room. "I expect you home by one!"

She smiled sweetly. "Daddy, you're 51, so you know by now you don't always get what you expect. Mom, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

Alice picked up a small case sitting by the door. "Shall we?"

Mom hugged me again. "Be good to her. I don't think he's ever experienced a good man she can't bend to her will. Tell you mother to call me."

"Why?"

She waved a hand. "Oh, I suspect we'll have plenty to talk about. Have a good time, Baby."

"I plan to, Mom," she said as she kissed her cheek before leading me out of her house. Her father was ranting in the background, and just as she closed the door, I heard her tell him to shut the hell up.

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Alice laughed happily when she saw my car. It was a '66 Mustang. I found it in one of Miz Hastings outbuildings and begged her to sell it to me. She laughed, lost in memories. "My husband bought that for me. It was my first car, and I drove the wheels off it. It hasn't been cranked in twenty years or better. Think you can get it to run?"

"Absolutely not, Miz Hastings, but I have a friend that can."

She wanted to give it to me but I insisted on paying her five grand for it, and a promise she'd be the first person I took for a ride. The ragtop was in ribbons, the engine was seized up, we had no idea about the transmission, the upholstery desperately needed changing, and the bumpers needed re-chroming. Bill laughed, then made it a priority. When the engine was redone, and the transmission gone through, he immediately took it to the body shop, where it was repainted the original color, a new top was installed, the upholstery and carpet replaced, all it needed was the chrome bumpers and other assorted pieces, and they were being redone by an out-of-state company that specialized in that.

I'd already done the title, insurance, and inspection, so when Bill called me, I stopped work that day. It sat there, gleaming, sparkling like brand new. Bill warned me about trying to hotrod it. "That's an inline six cylinder and an automatic transmission, so it's not gonna tear the roads up. You might not get there fast, but you'll get there in style."

I drove it straight to Miz Hastings, and she immediately burst into tears, then got in while I held the door for her. "This is your ride. I'm in no hurry, so you tell me where you want to go."

It was a forty-mile round trip. We went through the small hamlet she'd lived beside her whole life, and she gave me the history of the place. "That empty field is where Emmet's Grocery stood. It was two stories, and huge. You could get everything from cradles to coffins there. The family lived on the top floor, and it was as grand as any mansion. It burned down forty years ago."

She showed me the building that once held the school, five rooms with multiple grades in each one. The old dilapidated brick building was once the home of the volunteer fire department. "I can still remember when they moved into the new building with the electric sirens. It used to go off every day at noon, to call the farmers in for lunch."

She would point out old houses and empty fields, with a story for each. She was asleep by the time I got her home, and Geraldine helped me get her into the house. Miz Hastings was telling her of her adventure when I left.

Amy was tremendously jealous, and didn't let up until Dad found a '72 Camero in one of the barns on the property we'd contracted to cut. He gave more than he wanted, and restored it from the wheels up. It was Z something, the hot rod model, and when we found ourselves on the same road, she made it a point to zoom by me, the big engine roaring, grinning like crazy.

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Alice was bubbling along until she noticed the decoration I'd hung from the rearview mirror. It was her panties, with her name across the back in big letters. She was near tears when she asked if I was gonna leave it there. She was about to cry, so I took them down. "No, but I am keeping them. I just hung them up to yank your chain, so don't ruin your mascara. I promise this to you now. I will never embarrass you in public, if you do the same for me. The teasing probably won't stop in private though. You'll have to learn to deal with it."

She blinked and grinned. "Two-way street, bastard."

I just laughed, then laughed louder at her expression when we pulled up to the restaurant. It was a huge place, out in the middle of nowhere. It was call Baccus, after the god of the grape and debauchery.

It was rumored to live up to the name on alternate Saturdays, but I made it a point not to be around for that. It seemed Alice had heard of it, and her grip almost cut the circulation off in my hand. I grinned. "You can relax. It's not Saturday. It's just a meal, but we have to dress for it."

She looked down at her dress. "This isn't suitable?"

"Nope. It's Roman night." Another thing about the place. They had costume nights once a month. Roman was the most popular, but they varied. China, India, Polynesian Island, and so on. You could come in costume, or wear one provided, but you had to dress, and the menu fitted the theme. It was private, and wildly successful. The owner was a French woman who brought the idea with her from her past.

We separated at the entrance, each going to private dressing room. I wore the costume of a Centurion, minus the elaborate helmet and cloak. I wondered what she would choose, and I know my jaw dropped to the floor when she joined me. She was Cleopatra, with the elaborate makeup, wearing a black wig, her gown form fitting and almost translucent, and it was pretty obvious she wasn't wearing her bra. I rubbed her side as she sat, and noted she wasn't wearing panties either.

She giggled nervously. "I feel like everybody's watching me!"

"They are, hon. You're dripping so much sex appeal it's left a trail to the table."

Her smile lit up her face. We dined in opulent decadence, she even had a male waiter in a very skimpy costume feeding her grapes, while the waitress assigned to me was as naked as you could get and still claim clothing. The man whispered something to her, and when I asked her about it later, she said he invited her to the Saturday event. I frowned and she giggled, demanding we buy our own costumes for next time.

It was outrageously expensive, but worth every dime. She was relaxed in the seat as we drove, and I asked her if she wanted to go dancing. "Yes. I want to do the horizontal monbo at your house."

She had never seen my house, and seemed impressed. When you make you living with wood, you don't live in a brick house. It was a two-story log structure, four bedrooms, three bath. state of the art kitchen, two fireplaces, with a stone patio complete with hot tub. She wandered around, touching the granite countertops in the kitchen, admiring the mantlepiece over the fireplace, a solid hunk of black walnut that was 16 x16. "Wow, your job must pay you pretty good. How can you afford the payments on this place?"

There was no mortgage. I'd paid cash, using materials from the properties mostly. The oak logs had been dried naturally for two years before construction started, the stones for the fireplace and the patio coming from an old quarry on one of the leased properties. The shingles on the roof were also oak, hand split, treated, and laid using brass screws over a thick, waterproof underlayment. Once done, it was valuated at $675, 000 for insurance purposes.

Finaly, she started upstairs, shedding her dress and panties on the stairs. Alice never donned her bra as she changed back from the restaurant. She looked down at me. "Coming?"

"I will be," I growled, as I rushed after her, catching her at my bedroom door and throwing her on my massive four poster bed. Alice bounced a couple of times, before glaring at me. "Fuck me hard, Bastard!"

I was notoriously bad at following directions, so instead of just slamming her, I made it a point to kiss every part of her body. She was screaming during the first orgasm courtesy of my tongue, and whimpered at the second, smaller one. I rose up, and she twirled landing on top of me and grinding viciously. She was screaming curses at me as she pounded. I grinned the next morning as she sat for breakfast, easing on to the seat. She saw me watching and grinned, before calling me a bastard as I poured her coffee. "It'll be a while before you get any of this again!"

"It'll be as soon as you finish your coffee." We christened the dining room table, and I had to admit I was a little sore at the end. She slumped back into her seat. "You better get all you want wherever you want it, because when the kids come, we'll have to be more careful."

What?

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It took about six months for her to talk me around, but I finally agreed. Her mother and mine had been planning the wedding since the second week we'd been dating. Her parents came to dinner a month after that, and it gave Dad a great deal of satisfaction for him to finally understand we owned the corporation, a multimillion-dollar operation that was still growing.

I cut the black walnuts, getting $860, 000 for an acre and a half. Miz Hastings got a nice check for $139,000. She lived to be 93, leaving an estate worth fourteen million and change, counting the value of the property. Her heirs were falling all over themselves with anticipation when the will was read. It surprised them no end when she left $150,000 each to her caretakers, the antique furniture to Amy, and 20 acres of land to me, that surrounded the swimming hole.