Chapter 22: Setbacks and triumphs

I'd never considered Kitty a complex person. She was forthcoming regarding her sexual experiences, and she had a way of charming me into giving her vivid details about my own escapades. As far as I knew, we didn't have any secrets.

We'd been acquainted since I was fourteen and she was seventeen, and we'd become friends the following year. Our friendship grew until I thought I knew Kitty pretty well, but as I discovered, I was mistaken.

I came home from college to find that my mother had moved away to live with her future husband and had given me the responsibility of helping Kitty adjust to being a new mother and a widow.

I would have thought that she would turn to me in her time of need, but Kitty didn't take kindly to my presence in my own home. She acted as though we'd never been close friends. It was unnerving. I tried to understand her obsession with the baby. If the loss of her husband bothered her, she didn't show it.

I bided my time and waited for her to feel the need to lean on me. It was fun watching her come around. The first change I saw was when I was given the job of disposing of the contents of the home she had shared with Mr. Perryman. Kitty was quick to say that she would help to identify the rare items. Later, our work on the reenactment performances brought us together. She began to rely on me to help with her gift shops, and more recently, to help take care of Matilda. Then, she began coming to my room at night and curling up next to me. Eventually, she made a point of telling me that she loved me.

To the casual observer, we were a happy, well-adjusted couple, but there was one thing missing. Kitty was not ready for sex, and I valued our friendship too much to push her. The tipping point came when she discovered that I was applying for jobs in distant locations. Although I didn't know it at the time, she was the one that put the wheels in motion for me to stay in Perryville.

Everything pointed to this being the night, Kitty wanting to leave the town council meeting early, her insistence that I hurry back after taking the babysitter home, and the way she was sitting in the dark when I got back ... it was only nine-thirty. We didn't talk, there was no need for words; this was to be the night.

Kitty had all of the commitments she needed. She knew that I loved her and that I wasn't going anywhere. She made no other demands, such as gaining my participation in raising her daughter or when we'd walk down the aisle. She accepted me as I was and without conditions.

All we could do was to grin at each other across the breakfast table, like we'd pulled off a grand scheme that had been meticulously planned. We didn't talk until I was at the door, putting on my coat. Kitty broke the silence.

"I'll call Nadine and tell her to close her shop for the day. That way, she'll be free to look in on the other two sales clerks."

I looked at her and digested what she'd just conveyed to me. She was going to take the day off and I would be free to devote my time to my new job. I nodded my understanding, and watched her approach me. She was dressed for a day of lounging in jeans, sneakers, and a flannel shirt that hung loose at her waist.

"Pick up bread on your way home. I'll make soup and a sandwich for lunch," she said, as she cocked her head sideways for a parting kiss. I prolonged the kiss until she pushed me out the door, still grinning about something that I failed to understand.

The puzzlement occupied my mind all morning, and I accomplished very little. How could Kitty maintain a constant grin when my performance the night before had been sub-standard? It was embarrassing. The more I thought about how selfish I'd been, the more irritated I became with myself. Our first time together should have been memorable, not herky-jerky, get on and fuck like hell, roll off, and go to sleep.

What must she think of me? Was that her reason for grinning at me? Did she think I'd exaggerated about keeping my former lovers enthralled as I brought them to the heights of exhilaration? Was that the reason she'd grinned across the breakfast table?

I did manage to make two important decisions; I would extend the lease on the vacant drugstore to be used as my headquarters, and I would hire a webmaster to develop a webpage. With those two accomplishments out of the way, I returned to how I was going to wipe that grin from Kitty's face. I vowed to give her something to make her forget about my blunder.

I was preparing to leave early so I would have time to stop at the store, when Berry came by to invite me to go to lunch. I thanked him for the invitation, and made the excuse that Kitty was expecting me. He frowned, and told me the real reason he'd come to see me.

"Take this and read it. If you have questions, I'll be happy to explain our reasoning, but it needs to be signed to show that you're accepting the job," he said, as he handed me a thick envelope.

I stuffed the envelope in my pocket and headed for home, forgetting about stopping at the store. Kitty noticed that I'd neglected to pick up the bread the moment I entered the kitchen. She was stirring the contents of a slow cooker, still wearing the jeans and flannel shirt. Her permanent grin was beginning to irritate me. She made no comment about the forgotten bread.

"I want to see it," I began.

"What?" she asked, losing the grin.

"You got the short end of the deal. Show it to me. I'm going to kiss it and make it better."

A misunderstanding caused her to bristle. "You think its something you can see, like a sore that's festered and is confined to one spot? It's not something that you can see, and you certainly can't kiss it to make it better."

"What are you talking about?"

She looked at me for a long moment before speaking. "Must I put it into words? You're talking about my rotten life, growing up in a small town where everyone knew that I was the daughter of the town whore, being laughed at and talked about behind my back, and expected to turn out the same way as my mom. It's festered all right, but you can't see it. It's too big to kiss away."

The grin had disappeared and she was too wrought up to reason with. It was my fault, but how could she think that I was talking about her rotten life? Was it something that just came out, or was it a subject she'd suppressed for a long time, and wanted me to know?

Should I let her talk and try to get it out of her system, or should I set her straight about what I wanted to say? Her rotten life was obviously a pressing matter, but I had a pressing matter, too.

"Kitty, I want to make up for last night. I was talking about your pussy. I want to see it and get to know it."

She stared at me, obviously having difficulty comprehending my request. I waited, knowing that the change in subjects was hard to transition. Eventually, she wiped a tear from her eye, grinned mischievously, and said, "Oh."

Her sudden change in demeanor shocked me. She turned, and was heading toward the bedroom, before I regained my bearings. I had the presence of mind to replace the lid on the slow cooker before following her.

I'd always thought of Kitty's body type as petite. I'd seen her in swimwear, and often fantasized about the hidden curves, but up until now, I'd had to rely on my suspicions that she had a delectable pussy.

As I entered the bedroom, the sneakers and jeans were already on the floor, and she was lowering her panties. I stopped and feasted my eyes on the pear-shaped ass, her tapered thighs, and dainty feet. She turned to display the thin cluster of light-colored curls surrounding her pussy, and grinned when she saw my smile of approval.

It seemed to take me forever to remove my clothes, and when I looked up, Kitty was positioned in the center of the bed, a wistful look on her face, like she was seeing me for the first time. She appeared to be nervous. As I climbed between her legs, I smiled to show that she had nothing to fear.

She continued to watch, as I got my first look at the girl I'd been dreaming about since I was fourteen while riding in the back seat of Kenny's car. An involuntary twitch made the pink folds of her pussy ripple, like it was reacting to the anticipation of what was about to happen.

My first lick brought a sharp intake of air, which was followed by a weak, but contented, purr. Buoyed by Kitty's response, I plunged my tongue between the folds. From there on, I was lost in the endless activity of achieving my goal, only aware of the sounds of her declaring approval, the verifying scent, and the feeling of exhaustion that followed after crossing the finish line.

For the next thirty minutes, I paid homage to her pussy, licking, sucking, and exploring. Once I discovered the most effective action, tongue-spanking, I beat those folds relentlessly, using my tongue like a meat tenderizer hammer.

Kitty's response was ear-piercing praise. She got my attention by pulling my hair, and I must admit that I was happy to sprawl next to her, and give my tired tongue a rest. We were both out of breath, too exhausted to talk.

Then she was gone, and I had time to collect my thoughts. All I could think about was that the bedding would need to be changed and the room aired out.

"You woke Matilda," she said, accusingly, when she returned.

I didn't correct her. I suppose that I'd been the one responsible for making her shudder and squeal at the top of her voice, like she was objecting to the assault my tongue was imparting on her clit. Anyway, my attention was drawn to watching her take charge. She rolled me onto my back and inspected my cock.

"Nice," she mumbled, as she straddled me and lined us up. I lay there and enjoyed her quirky facial expressions as she sank, slowly and deliberately, until she had me fully inside her.

Kitty leaned forward, laughing, and stuck her tongue between my lips. She disregarded my groan, probably knowing that she wasn't hurting me. After a second kiss, she became serious.

"Do you have to go back to work?"

"I'm afraid so."

"That's too bad. I wish we could stay like this all day."

"Me, too," I said, and felt the walls of her pussy contract and release, contract and release, which made me reconsider the need to return to work.

I was torn between wanting to release my cum and holding the inevitable for another minute, another thirty seconds, even another fraction of a second. Eventually, I timed Kitty's release, and splashed sperm into the depths of her tunnel. Her reaction was to fall forward, laughing happily.

We had a bowl of soup, and I returned to work, completely drained, but in high spirits.

The contract that Berry wanted me to sign was laden with goals, mainly tied to the volume of business that was to be enjoyed by the owners of the motels, restaurants, and other businesses. The dollar amount of the salary that had been quoted was the maximum pay I would receive if the goals were met, and it would be lowered if I failed to achieve those goals. I rationalized that money wasn't everything, and delivered the signed contract to Berry's office. I had faith in my own abilities, and anyway, I wanted the job. It represented the ticket to remaining in Perryville, close to Kitty.

I rolled up my sleeves and went to work. In addition to selling advertising to the merchants, there were scripts to write. It was always on my mind to bring up the subject of her rotten life, but our nightly sexual encounters always took precedence. Kitty was responsible for inventing a new theme for the skits I was working on. We were getting comfortable after a lengthy bout of seeing which one could last the longest. As usual, she won when I yelled, "I'm coming."

"Why not try something romantic?" she offered.

"What did you have in mind?"

"There are a number of ways you could introduce the boy meets girl theme, but since the backdrop is usually a saloon, and there's always a gunfight, it could be between the gunslinger and the barmaid," she said, and waited while I digested her suggestion.

"I'll work on that angle," I said, meaning that I would think about her idea.

My first big test came on Thanksgiving. The merchants were expecting hordes of visitors to arrive, and they would not listen to my argument that few families would want to drive hundreds of miles to stand out in the cold to witness thirty minute skits celebrating the most traditional holiday known to our country.

Satisfying the merchants was minuscule, compared to the other hurdle that I had to clear.

Breaking the news to my mother that I would not be able to accompany her and Phil to my grandparents' house was difficult. She pointed out that this was the first time I'd ever missed making our annual trip to her parents' house.

"They look forward to seeing you."

"I know, Mom, but I have a new job and need to prove that I'm capable of enticing people to spend their Thanksgiving in Perryville. The merchants are banking on having a big take.

Phil was equally disappointed that I would not be joining them for the annual pilgrimage. I suspected that he was nervous about spending the holiday with his new in-laws.

"Phyllis will be home, and I'm sure she'll want to see her favorite brother," he quipped.

I was looking forward to seeing Phyllis, too, but not to renew our step-sibling liaison. I had several unfinished scripts that I wanted her to read. "We'll have her over for dinner one night while she's here," I offered.

My first big test turned out to be a bust. The attendance was not up the merchant's expectations, and Sharon gave us the bad news that she was not planning to return to Perryville for the summer. She did, however, encourage me to work on Kitty's suggestion to use the romantic theme in future scripts. My failure to produce an acceptable turnout for the holiday, combined with Sharon saying that she would not be home for the summer, sent me into the depths of despair. Kitty lifted my spirits with one of her patented blowjobs.

"You're the only person who brings sunshine to my cloudy days," I said, "will you marry me?"

She laughed and passed my impromptu proposal off as post-ejaculation euphoria. She didn't know that I was serious. I'd been thinking about marriage for some time, but realizing this was not the right time to tell her how serious I was, I dropped the subject.

"Do you want to see it?" became Kitty's way of telling me that she'd fed Matilda, and we could make as much noise as my 'seeing it' required. For the most part, we hibernated, made love, and expounded on how much we loved each other. I proposed marriage frequently. Kitty's response was always the same. "Let's keep things as they are until you tire of me."

I couldn't convince her otherwise, and the more times she changed the subject, the more I wanted her to agree to marriage. When Berry and Claire announced their engagement, I plotted my campaign to convince Kitty to do likewise.

Attending the town council meetings was about the only time we ventured out of the house at night. The council seemed to have forgotten that I was to have complete control over the monies it had allotted to me. I was often required to defend the expenditures I made, and grilled as to when I expected tourism to improve. At one of the meetings, I lost my composure, and told the gathering that tourism is a seasonal business.

Everyone was frustrated about business being off, and I didn't mind hearing the complaints. I did, however, wish we had stayed at home the night Mr. Stevens called Kitty to the council's table and presented her with a check for one third of the proceeds from the sale of the Perryman home.

Kitty turned scarlet with embarrassment to be handed the check with our neighbors looking on, and I was livid with Mr. Stevens. It was like he was rewarding her for services rendered. I glared at Berry for letting it happen as I guided Kitty from the room. She didn't have to tell me what this meant. Every person in town would know that she was the recipient of a large sum of money, and it wouldn't be long before our telephone would start ringing.

She'd been able to keep her share of the proceeds from the contents of the house secret, but this was different. The amount of the check was under six figures, but still a tidy sum in the eyes of most residents in our small town. As it always did, word spread fast that Mrs. Perryman had become a rich widow. I took the first call, and even though I had never met the lady, I knew it was Kitty's mother. The conversation soon became heated, and when I accused her of being a stranger during her daughter's time of need, she countered with what people were saying about me. "You're already shopping for clothes and a new car," she said, in an accusing tone.

I couldn't be there to field all the calls, and as I feared, Kitty couldn't hold a grudge. After practically abandoning her daughter for years, the old lady became the recipient of a check for one thousand dollars.

"She'll be back for more when that's gone," I warned.

"No, she won't," Kitty responded, but we both knew that she was wrong.

Bad weather set in, and I used that as an excuse for not being able to attract the number of visitors the merchants would have liked to see. Everyone in town seemed to have a suggestion as to how we could lure more visitors. The suggestions ranged from building a stream where children could pan for gold, to holding best mustache and beard contests. I listened, and thanked them for their help. Wanting to avoid crowds of people, Kitty and I became homebodies, only inviting Phil and my mother to have dinner with us, and occasionally entertaining Berry and Claire.