Chapter 4
Downstairs, Marie kept busy doing whatever it was that maids do when the mistress wants them to keep out of the way.
The sun beamed down on the resort town as everywhere else, but sea breezes cooled it, gave it a cleansing air not found across the highway in the poor section where year-round residents lived in clapboard houses painted bright yellow and green or sometimes pink in an effort to display cheeriness, an effort that always turned drab after the first winter fog. In the resort area, next to the bay, all the houses were bright white and stayed that way and the weather was always cool, Rick already knew and understood the difference between the two halves of the town, but now he was learning another difference. He was surprised at Mrs. Witherdine's directness, at how she seemed to see what she wanted and moved toward it in a straight, unwavering line. Probably, Rick thought, that was how she managed her fortune and kept it from dwindling, unlike so many widows left with their husband's fortune and no manager. But, Rick thought also, Mrs. Witherdine had probably always been direct, had probably always moved in a straight line toward what she wanted. No doubt that was how she had gotten Mr. Witherdine in the first place.
With the line of moisture lingering on herflips, she touched Rick's hand with her cool fingers. Her face, up close, was smooth from years of cream and lotion. Her bright, swift eyes calmed as she touched him, as she realized that he was going to be hers, but her voice remained direct as if she could not quite control it yet. "Follow me."
With her fingers still on his wrist, she led him into an adjoining room and closed the door. A large double bed waited, its spread turned back, its aqua-colored, satin sheets exposed. It was another four-poster, the posts carved in the same manner as the single bed in the office room, part of a set bought by the family a century ago at a rate exorbitant for 1875.
Mrs. Witherdine stopped Rick in front of a three-sided, full-length mirror, the same as might have been found in a department store except that this mirror had bevelled glass and the frame was mahogany.
She said quietly, "Would you mind if I see the merchandise?"
It bothered him to undress in front of her, with her standing there sizing him up as if he was a piece of hamburger in the. market or a mink coat on a rack. But he thought to himself that this was what he had decided to do, to hell with it, this was going to be his ticket to somewhere.
When he pulled his banlon shirt over his head, his thick blond hair fell back with a bounce. It was just long enough to be carefree. He smiled at his benefactress as he stepped out of his tennis shoes.
She watched him in the three mirrors, as well as in the flesh. She admired his white, even teeth, his strong and rich lips. She wanted to kiss his blue eyes.
He asked, "Do I have any of the same rights?"
"In due time."
His back rippled in two reflections as he unbuckled his belt, opened his pants and pushed them, shorts and all, down around his ankles.
Mrs. Witherdine saw the flash of his buttocks as he bent over, then he was standing totally naked, his feet bare, his lips serious but his eyes smiling.
She looked at his chest with its bare suggestion of hair. His skin was evenly tanned, without a blemish, and her eyes passed over his nipples and down his firm stomach to his belly button and Mrs. Witherdine could not stop her eyes anymore. It was as if she slowly was moving into an orgasm, as if waves were rising from' deep within her cunt, and finally she passed over the peak and could not stop herself anymore. Her eyes followed the thin line of hair from his navel, down to where it thickened and became his pubic hair and she looked at his crotch.
She was glad he was circumcised. His penis was excited but not yet erect; it hung long and hardening, as if Rick were swimming naked with his girl but had not quite begun fucking her yet. Mrs. Witherdine was pleased because her friend Mrs. Cruise had not misled her, Rick did indeed have a very nice cock.
She stepped into the range of the mirror with him. She touched his sides, dropped her hands to his hips. One hand circled his body, touched along the cheeks of his ass. She watched her fingers caress him in the mirror.
She dropped her other hand to his crotch, fingered his thick hair and circled the shaft of his cock and lifted it, sliding her hand to the swelling head. Her knees shook, slightly, under her long gown.
Rick thought of lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bed, but decided instead to wait for her, to let her lead a while longer.
She found his balls and caressed them. As his prick began to stiffen, she gripped it, pulled on it, loosened her land and petted it with the tips of her fingers. It throbbed in her hand.
Touching the back of her neck, Rick leaned forward slightly, breathed in the aroma of her perfume, the creams and lotions rubbed into her skin, and brushed her lips with his own. He kept them there, then pulled her face closer and kissed her, tasting her lipstick with his tongue.
He never knew how she did it, but Mrs. Witherdine simply seemed to touch her left shoulder with one hand and her long gown separated over her collar bone and slid swiftly down between them to the floor.
Her skin was softer than that of any girl Rick had ever touched. Her breasts, pressed against his body, seemed to fold back into her body. He could feel her hard nipples against him, but her breasts were soft and almost non-existent. He held her head with both hands as he kissed her mouth, as her hands rested lightly on his hips.
Then she stepped quickly away from him and walked toward the bed. He looked quickly at her body, and was pleased with what he saw.
As she turned away from him, he saw a thick fist of dark hair at her crotch, and above that a slight sag at her abdomen where she had carried three babies. Her legs were long and slim, tapered to firm ankles. Her ass had sagged more than her face, but, Rick thought, for God's sake, the woman was in her fifties. Her breasts were not as firm as they must have been at eighteen, but it was encouraging to Rick that the woman was as old as she was and still wanted to fuck, still yearned for fresh cock now and then. That meant to Rick that if he stayed the same, that if he could keep it up over the years, as apparently Mrs. Witherdine had managed to do, he had at least forty years of fucking stretched out before him. It was a fine thought, he imagined.
And right now, he said to himself, was the time to get to it.
He followed the naked woman to her bed, his cock bounding as his thigh pressed forward, but Mrs. Witherdine would not let him lie down beside her.
"Not yet," she said, her voice having lost all traces of directness, and having become the voice of a woman who wanted to be fucked. "Not yet, please. Wait, and watch."
The four pillows on the bed appeared to be so soft when Mrs. Witherdine sank her head on them that Rick knew they must be filled with goose down. Her hair bunched around her head. It was gray, but full and thick. She smiled gently at Rick, looked down his body again and to please her he turned like an athlete on a pedestal, his cock sticking out and up like a ramrod, his ass tight and firm.
She stretched full length on her satin sheets. Passing her palms over her breasts, she excited the nipples even more until they rose on their brown circles to thick points. Her hands kept moving down her ribs to her belly, into her crotch.
Rick watched her fingers slide over her inner thighs, pressing against her "flesh. She parted her legs and her fingers began to disappear into her vulva, easing like ten little pricks into the pink slit that opened further as she brought her knees up. Her fingers pressed inside the pink folds, touched her clit, began to slide inside.
She half-closed her eyes, then opened them again to feast on Rick's cock. He stood patiently, amused, learning. Mrs. Witherdine knew just what would make her come and Rick was patient enough to let her get to it. He wanted his cock in there in place of her fingers but if she preferred ten little ones to his one big one, that would have to be all right with him. She had bought and paid for him, or would as soon as she was finished, and Rick had no option except to keep his cock hard for her eyes.