Chapter 8: Sex with Paige

I held the sheet and blanket for her, and Paige crawled in next to me. My hand went immediately to her ass, and aside from the flimsy nightgown, I felt nothing but soft flesh.

She wiggled her body in an attempt to close every inch of space between us. I groaned.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No," I managed to say. She'd eased her tummy back a bit, making the way she was bending my cock bearable.

I moved my hand under the nightgown, up her back, feeling the soft skin against my fingers. She kissed me; I kissed back, letting her have her way with my tongue.

God! How I wanted this. Nothing else mattered. My animalistic instincts had taken over. I could think of nothing else but mating with her.

Uppermost in my mind was getting the nightgown off, and from the way she was wiggling her body, we were of a single mindset. I hoped so. She unglued her lips from mine long enough for the garment to be drawn over her head, and then our lips were like two suction cups battling for supremacy.

My right arm was under her and that hand held her close while the other one roamed. It was squeezing her ass one second, flat against her back the next, and then between us, tweaking her breasts. I hoped I was doing everything right, and from the way she moaned into my mouth, I was.

My hand left her breasts, floated over her tummy and stopped moving when I felt her pubic hair. Paige froze for a second and I wondered what I'd done wrong. Then, with her right heel planted on the floor, she elevated her pelvis until my middle finger sank into her pussy.

The accumulation of sweat between our bodies, combined with the sweet-smelling moisture that was surrounding my finger, were making me insanely needy. I couldn't wait any longer.

Paige must have felt the same way. As I rose onto my knees and carefully lowered my shorts, she settled on her back, positioning her legs wide.

I stabbed blindly, once, twice, the third time was the charm. We were joined, barely. Even in the dark, her grunt told me that she needed time. I waited while she adjusted her ass. With another grunt, she lifted it off the blanket. I pushed forward and sank in to the hilt. Another grunt signaled for more time. I kissed her nose, her cheeks and her chin until she wrapped her arms around me and slid her tongue between my lips.

As I began to move, the realization struck me that Paige wanted this as much as me. My need was as strong as ever, but it was not mine alone now. I tried to relax and enjoy our first union. I wanted it to be good. Somehow I knew that something was missing. We were fucking, not making love.

It was not all my fault. Paige was just as wild as me. She dug her fingernails into my back, growled like a bitch in heat, and bit my lip until it bled. When I slowed down, she locked her ankles around me, and demanded that I 'fuck her until she gave me permission to stop.'

When I gave up and let my seed flood her pussy, she shuddered, let her feet drop to the floor, kept her arms around me, whimpered, told me she was sorry if she'd hurt me, and encouraged me to let my weight slump on top of her.

We lay still, breathing hard, collecting our thoughts. I supported my weight with my elbows and we stayed joined as long as possible.

"I must go," she said when my cock slipped out of its confinement.

"Stay with me," I implored.

"Let me up before I make your sheet unbearable to sleep on."

"Come back," I said, lifting my body.

"I wish I could, but you know that's impossible," she said, getting to her feet.

I held on to her hand for one more precious second, and released it, knowing that she was right. She fled from the room, carrying her nightgown.

Except for hearing water running in the upstairs bath, I didn't see or hear Paige until the following morning. Needless to say, I'd slept well.

The household came to life early for a Saturday. I folded my blanket and sheet, got dressed, and shaved in the downstairs bathroom.

Talk at breakfast centered on the baseball game. Pat sat next to me and Mona sat next to Paige on the opposite side of the table. Mrs. Peoples, Florence as she told me to call her, presided from one end and Mr. Peoples, first name Arthur per the will, sat at the head of the table and said little.

"Does Amanda have email?" Mona directed her question at me. Paige and I exchanged a look before I answered in the affirmative.

"I'd like to tell her that I met you and that you showed me her picture."

"She'd like that. I'll give you her address," I said, and watched her grin at me. In some respects, Mona reminded me of my daughter. There was no physical resemblance; it was purely their little-girl inquisitiveness.

While Paige ran upstairs for her overnight bag, Florence urged me to have seconds of everything.

Mona brought a paper and pen, wanting me to write Amanda's email address. She complained when Paige returned to the room, saying that she didn't see why her mother had to leave so soon.

"We're having guests for dinner," she said, and this prompted questions that took ten minutes to answer.

Mr. Peoples and Pat came outside to see us off. I was arranging Paige's overnight bag and my new coat in the extended cab of my truck when I remembered the check. I told Paige to open the glove compartment. The check fell out. She first accused me of being careless for leaving the check in the glove compartment all night, but then softened.

I watched her get out of the truck, approach her father, and talk quietly to him as she handed him the check. He looked my way, smiled, and hugged his daughter. Pat looked on, completely at a loss as to what was taking place.

She directed me through the neighborhood, and we were on the expressway, heading south, before she spoke of the check.

"You can't imagine what a difference it's going to make in their lives. He hasn't been able to work since the stroke, and their retirement doesn't go very far. I hope they don't go on a spending spree."

"Is that the reason you moved back home?"

She didn't respond for a few seconds. "It's complicated. We couldn't stay in the house. There was too much harsh public opinion about Patrick's death. I moved here to get away from the taunting my kids were exposed to, and so I could work. My mom is a wonderful babysitter and I contribute to the living expenses."

"Something like that happened to me. Mary said she couldn't live alone, but I think she moved in with us because she wanted to be near her grandchildren."

"I hear statistics about how many grandparents are raising their grandchildren, but I think they're referring to homes where neither parent is present, which is different than our situations."

"My kids would differ with you. I haven't been in the home for over a month."

A stunned look came to Paige's face, like she hadn't considered how long I'd been away from my children. "We've got to find a way for you to spend some time at home. How much longer do you think it will take to dispose of everything?"

"I'm ready to award the contracts for the construction jobs. We'll vote on them on Monday. The auctions are taking forever, but that's by design. I haven't heard from Fred regarding the list of stocks I gave him. I have no idea what the antique cars are worth, but I'm going to propose that we purchase a mailing list of their subscribers from one of the auto magazines."

Paige was removing the jacket she'd worn to the game the night before. She tossed it in the back and perched herself on the bench seat, facing me. I looked at her, from the leg that was folded under the other one, to the way her jeans hugged her thighs, to the light sweater that was stretched across her breasts, to the way her long neck wrinkled when she turned her head my way, to her square jaw, her parted lips, her dainty nose, gray eyes, trimmed eyebrows, smooth forehead, and to her hair, which hung in a loose ponytail at the back of her head.

"You've immersed yourself in this job, haven't you?" It was an observation, not an accusation.

"I didn't mean to expound on the estate. What would you like to do today?"

Her face took on a look of glee, mixed with shy, downcast eyes. "First, I'd like to move your bed upstairs. Then, I'd like for us to get naked and become better acquainted," she said, extending her arm and running her fingers across my cheek.

I felt an explanation was in order. "I was overanxious last night. It will be better today."

"Me, too," she confessed, adding, "But I disagree with you. It doesn't get any better than last night."

I loved watching her blush. "Was there a part about last night that you liked best?"

To my surprise, Paige didn't blink, let alone blush. "There was a time, before we got lined up better, when I didn't think I would be able to take all of you. And then, when I realized you were all the way in, I came close to shouting to let the world know how good it was. You can't imagine how happy it made me when you showed how considerate you can be. You gave me a minute to become accustomed to being filled up. It wasn't just the tremendous feeling of you being inside me. I knew that I had a caring lover on top of me. It doesn't get any better than that."

She didn't really look my way, but I was struck by her candor. I tried once more to make her blush. "Gee, Paige, it looks like we have something else in common."

We looked into each other's eyes, smiling and feeling smug, at least I knew I was.

I was for locking the doors and spending the afternoon upstairs, but it didn't work out that way. We'd spread my sleeping blanket next to hers and arranged the frames containing the photos of my family when Charlie rang the back doorbell. He had news that the lady from the newspaper had been there looking for me.

Paige was in favor of my calling Ms. Adams and inviting her to return. I accused her of wanting to find out if I'd been truthful when I'd described the newspaper reporter. She didn't deign that I'd guessed correctly.

Ms. Adams' visit turned out to be so enlightening that Paige invited her to stay for lunch. When she left two hours later, we had learned that the editor at one of the newspapers where Mackey had worked remembered him. The editor agreed to send Ms. Adams a sample of Mackey's columns. He also expressed an interest in the article Ms. Adams was working on, saying that he would run it in the Denver, Colorado newspaper.

"We've got to go shopping," Paige said as soon as Ms. Adams was out the door. I voiced a complaint, reminding her that there were better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon, only to be told that if I wanted to eat, we had to shop.

After the grocery store, we stopped at a mall to look for a coffee maker.

"Serving instant coffee after dinner is like having sex through a knothole," she said, turning scarlet as soon as she'd said it.

"Right now, I'd settle for a knothole," I said.

"Later, Tiger, and there won't be any knothole between us," she said, to console me.

Paige was putting the groceries away and I was setting up the new coffeemaker when Fred Meriwether called, saying he'd like to stop by to discuss the stock. What could I say?

Fifteen minutes later he was spreading his notes out on the kitchen table. Nadine had come with him. I gave her the Food Pantry check.

"Thank you, Brian. The pantry can certainly use this. What did the others say?"

"I mailed my parents' check and Paige gave her dad his check this morning, but I haven't seen Mr. McMahan or Ms. Dickens."

"My dad was pleasantly surprised," Paige said.

"Wait a second. You gave him his check this morning. Didn't you come here yesterday?"

Paige looked my way before responding to Nadine's question. "Brian came to Boston yesterday afternoon. We took the kids to the Red Sox game and he forgot about the check until this morning."

Nadine put her hand over her mouth in a mock surprise. "You went to Boston and stayed overnight. May I inquire about the sleeping arrangements?"

"Nadine, Honey, I'm ready to get started," Fred said.

"I slept on the floor in the living room," I said to Nadine before giving Fred my full attention.

He gave us his firm's official standing on each of the stocks, and then added his own opinion when it differed from his firm's. It took over an hour to cover all twenty stocks, and I could tell that Paige was becoming nervous. She wanted to get started with dinner so she would have time to bathe and dress before our company arrived. I nodded at her, sending a silent message.

"Nadine," she began, leaning over the table to look directly in the other woman's eyes, "We're having the Whitneys for dinner tonight. We would have invited you guys if we had more chairs, but eating lasagna standing up is not my idea of a dinner party."

"You're serving lasagna?" Nadine asked.

"Nadine, she said they would have invited us if they had more chairs. Paige is not inviting us," Fred cautioned his wife, obviously anxious to continue his report on the stock.

Nadine was persistent. "She would have invited us if there were two more chairs. We have two chairs we can bring."

"Really, Nadine, it's impolite to intrude. We were just here last Saturday night," Fred said, trying to reason with her.

"Please," Paige said, tapping the table to make her point. "Come back at seven with two chairs. You'll be welcome. Let's not discuss it any more."

Nadine wouldn't let it rest. "Shall we bring our spare bed too?"

Paige and I laughed, but it was her that responded. "Brian says he prefers to sleep on the floor, and I don't mind at all."

Fred resumed his discussion of the stock, made recommendations on the timing of the sales. We took a quick vote and told him to go ahead with his plan. The couple left, unaware that they'd ruined our afternoon.

Paige got dinner underway and went upstairs to get ready. I showered and found a decent pair of slacks and shirt to wear that night.

When the two couples arrived, the men carrying one chair each and the women carrying wine, I immediately saw that the girls had conspired to go braless. Once she removed her apron, Paige's cleavage looked particularly appealing with the straps that tied at the back of her neck barely covering her breasts. Her hair was down, brushed to a soft sheen.

If Harold and Janice knew that the Meriwethers had been added to the guest list at the last minute, they didn't show that they minded.

Midway through the main course, Harold raised his glass, wanting to toast me. "Brian helped get me a job," he said, adding, "Thank you, Man."

We talked about various subjects, such as the baseball game we'd attended the evening before, and the article Ms. Adams was planning to publish on Uncle Mackey, and at the end of the evening, Paige only had one question for me.

"What was the toast about?" she asked after our guests had left. We were making a half-hearted attempt to put the kitchen in order, both anxious to go upstairs and undress each other.

"He asked me to go with him to quote a job. I didn't know why he wanted me to go along, but he'd missed out on getting any of the work on this house so I wanted to help him if I could.

"It's a siding job. Even I could see that all of the shingles needed to be replaced, but the guy only wanted a patch job. Harold tried his best, but couldn't reason with the man. He was on the other side of the house counting the damaged shingles when I saw my opportunity. I pretended to be Harold's partner, used some of the power-words that I learned when I was taking calls from customers, and the guy bought my argument. He told me to tell my partner to give him a quote to replace everything. Well, that's what we did and Harold even got the guy to give him a down payment. He's starting the job on Monday."

Paige came to me, the kitchen forgotten. I held her and let her tell me how great I was. "Do you realize that we've only been here five weeks and we've made more friends than we have chairs?"

"We've made some enemies, too," I reminded her.

"It's your abrasive personality."

"Ah, making friends is a joint project, but making enemies is because of my abrasive personality."

Her kiss was brief. She became thoughtful. "We do well when we set a common goal, don't we?"

"It's you. I just follow."

"It's you," she said, linking her arm in mine and heading to the stairs.

Entering the room was like being admitted to an exclusive club, like the first time a kid with a tree house in his backyard let me join him, or when a girl in a college sorority invited me to one of their parties. This was Paige's private chamber, and she was welcoming me to join her there.

She giggled when I had trouble finding the clasp that held the straps of her dress together. I lowered my hands to her ass and let her do it. She didn't seem to mind when the dress fell to the floor. We continued to kiss until she discovered my cock.

"You're overdressed," she said before leaving the room.

I removed my clothes and was completely naked when she returned. We embraced in the dark and I discovered that she was still wearing the panties and shoes she'd had on when she left the room. Only now she smelled like soap.

She was silently compliant as I lowered her to her sleeping blanket. It was like this was my night to dominate our lovemaking and she had no say in the way I went about it.

Wanting fervently to please her, I began with her nipples and gave them ample attention before moving my lips down to her tummy. There was already the unmistakable aroma of arousal coming from her pussy and I still hadn't removed her panties. They were sheer silken fabric and I would have liked to have seen the expression on her face when my tongue pushed the material into her slit, but it was dark in the room. I had to rely on her intake of air to know that my method was effective.