The Widows of Sea Trail-Tessa of Crooked Gulley

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  Chapter Forty-three

  The Professor of Tantric As we undressed each other while kneeling on the bed, Roman began to describe what he was going to be doing with the small cylindrical gel thingee he had carried home in his pocket the day we’d gone shopping.

  “This is a combination of pleasures where the woman is dominant. So you will take the woman superior position while I lie back against the headboard. Your legs will straddle my hips and you will keep your chest down, close to mine. I should be able to feel your breasts graze my chest hairs, your nipples searching out mine. Got it?”

  “Got it. Me on top, nipple to nipple.”

  “My lingam will penetrate you deeply that way and hopefully by putting pressure on the upper front wall of the vagina make repeated contact with your woman’s sacred spot. That will be the first point of pleasure. I will reach behind you and press on your anus with my finger and if I find you amenable, I might even insert our little friend here. It’s a different angle from my lingram so you may also even feel it with your woman’s scared spot, so we’ve covered the second pleasure point. Then with the thumb of my other hand I will lightly stimulate your clitoris while you are riding me. Your movements should be minimal not energetic as you will be getting a simultaneous energy charge from three places. It’s very easy for either you or me to over stimulate a given area and short circuit everything so this must be a slow build up with feather light touches, got it? We’re going slow this time, real slow.”

  “Got it. You’re going to poke something in my rear and somehow I’m going to like it.”

  He leaned down, stroked my jaw and kissed me softly on the lips, “Trust me sweetheart, you’re going to love this. Most people are not aware of the vast mother lode of erogenous nerve endings situated at the opening of the anus. Done right, this can be ecstatic love making.” Many sweet, soft kisses followed as he kissed every part of my face and neck. A long, lingering kiss to my mouth sent molten delight to every part of my body.

  Then breaking the kiss, he eased me back and said, “First I have to prepare you. You have to be very wet for this. Spread your legs and let me kiss your yoni.”

  Any shame I had spreading my legs wide only inches from his face was erased the second he touched me. His long fingers stroked my labial lips, plucking gently at them and softly tugging on them while he followed the movement with lust-filled eyes. “You have such soft lips,” he murmured.

  “Thank you. I am always slathering them with something—Chapstick, lipgloss, you name it, and at night I rub them with Vaseline.

  “Not those lips, you twit, these,” he said as he stroked my soft moist flesh.

  “Oh those, well they seem to moisturize themselves.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  His fingers stilled and then a second later I felt his tongue rake my slit from top to bottom. I felt an orgasmic shudder flutter through me.

  “Uh uh, no, no, no,” he whispered against me and I

  Tessa of Crooked Gulley felt the heat of his breath. You aren’t allowed to come yet.” “Then stop licking me there.”

  “Okay, I’ll move on to someplace else.”

  I had a split second to consider where he might be

  going next before I felt his tongue rim my anus. I couldn’t help it, I puckered.

  “Don’t deny me, sweetheart. Open up a bit.”

  I didn’t know how to do this, plus I didn’t particularly want to. But he knew this. A moment later I felt his finger press on my anus and then slide in. As he softly rimmed me, he licked and kissed and gave me quiet words of encouragement. “You’re doing good, baby, don’t fight it,” and “Push out a little and you’ll see how good it feels, come on, just a little. Yes, yes, just like that. You’re so sweet here.” Then I felt him remove his finger and insert our little gel friend. It was odd having it there, but surprisingly not unpleasant.

  He sat up and smacked me on my bottom and said, “Okay baby, time for you to sit on my lingram and take it deep inside you.”

  As he lay back against the pillows, pulling me up along his body, I felt his rock hard erection. Whatever he had been doing back there had made him hard as a pike. So hard I had a bit of difficulty getting high enough to get him inside me. He had to hold me up by my armpits until I could get the tip in position and then he lowered me and I sheathed him. “Oh,” I murmured. He was filling me so utterly completely.

  “Oh, is right, Oh, Dear God is more to the point though. Go slow now, I’m already too close.”

  He helped me and I shifted up and down, releasing him and welcoming him back, over and over again. Then the thumb of his left hand began to make small circles on my clit, dipping often into my cleft to keep it moist. His right hand caressed my bottom and then when I felt my clit engorge and flood, he pushed the anal plug in deeper. I cried out and he thrust his cock up while urging me down with a hand on my back. I felt his penis touch something inside, something marvelous and deep, and dear God, I came apart. I heard myself sob and felt myself clench and then I fell into a massive abyss, spinning and swirling, and being caressed by golden light and soft spun velvet. When I came back into myself, Roman was holding me in his arms, crooning softly and stroking my back and my face. “Shh, darling, its all right, please don’t cry.”

  But the crying I had no control over, it came from a place I hadn’t even known existed. As a part of me purged with tears, Roman held me close and kissed my nose, my eyes, my jaw and my lips. I stopped sobbing and kissed him back. It was a soft sweet kiss, as a culmination of intense, primal longings shuddered through me, I felt drained and every nerve ending was alive with electricity. He has removed the anal plug, I could see it on his nightstand.

  “I love you, Tess,” Roman whispered and then he held me as I fell asleep in his arms. I was aware that he still had a raging hard on and that it was wet against my thigh. But I didn’t care; I had absolutely no energy left to do a thing about it.

  Chapter Forty-four

  All good things

  As usual, Roman was gone when I woke up, but this time he’d left a note on his pillow. Mornin’ Love, I have a long shift today. Probably won’t be home until close to nine tonight and then I won’t be fit for much. Don’t worry about waiting dinner. I will be eating on a cruise ship with a captain friend before leading his ship out of the harbor. Have a good day at the beach. Visit Amy, go shopping, or sightseeing. Just know that I will be missing you.

  I smiled and then I frowned. Having dinner onboard ship, eh? I remembered when he’d had dinner onboard my ship. And I remembered how he’d raised my skirt and kissed me just before jumping off the ship. Cruise ships were full of beautiful women. Younger women. Without even knowing about his sexual prowess, or his financial assets, Roman was a great catch, and all it took for women to notice was a brief glimpse, a tantalizing smile, or a whiff as he walked by. I could not help but feel jealous of any woman who might see him today in his nautical whites with his dramatic hair and bold eyes.

  The thought caused me to dwell on all his jilted lovelies, the exotic lady from Spain who kept him as her lover despite marrying someone else, his bitter store manager, his happy go lucky housekeeper, his teachers for crying out loud! For someone as insecure as I was becoming, how could I ever hope to hold on to a man so desirable? Another reason to refuse his proposal.

  I forced myself out of bed, took a shower and called for a driver. Then I took Amy out for a late breakfast and cued her in on Carlos’visit, although she knew most of it as the officers who had come to interview her had explained everything. Except the bloody nose, no one told her about all that. It did not seem to bother her in the least that he had been hurt. I took that as a good sign.

  We went shopping and took a carriage ride around the town and harbor. Her hair looked cute, short and sassy and surprisingly tamed. She looked happy and was full of life, but I knew she was hurting inside and I knew that the worst was yet to come. Divorcing Carlos would not be easy, he would be despicable and mean, of thi
s I had no doubt. And then there would be the humiliation. Everyone would know what he had tried to do. In a small community like ours, secrets like this had a way of being found out. I could only imagine how this story would be embellished. But still, he had been her husband, and she had loved him.

  But today was for having fun, and we did. We both bought new sandals, fun purses and gifts for friends back home. Amy asked about my ring and I told her that Roman had proposed but that I was undecided. She thought I was being foolish by not agreeing and marrying him before we left. I had to admit, the thought had crossed my mind. But then I thought about all my friends back home, my lovely house, the golf course that was my backyard, and the grief

  Tessa of Crooked Gulley that had cloaked me like a dark thundercloud for almost four years. I didn’t think I could commit to someone and be hurt like that again.

  I took Amy home with me and we sat by the pool having an early dinner of take out. Then I rode with her back to the spa, kissed her on the cheek and told her how happy I was that she was going to be all right and that she was going to survive this mess because I would see to it that she did. Just as Cat and Viv had seen to it that I came out of my funk and got back to living.

  When I got back to the house, I made an oversized pineapple martini in a big Lucite martini glass and took it with me while I walked on the beach. I was in a melancholy mood, missing Roman, dreading leaving, and wondering what to do with this huge rock on my finger.

  The sun was going down and it was a desolate beach for sure. Still, I stayed and sipped, walking back and forth, kicking the waves. Could I get married again? I just couldn’t see it. I was independent and I liked answering to no one.

  But I already loved him, this I knew to be fact. And whether we were married or not, if something should happen to him I would be devastated. So I really couldn’t use that as an excuse anymore. Not marrying him would not keep me from grief if he were to have an accident at sea.

  What would Roman expect of me as a wife, I wondered. Then I had to smile. I knew damn well what he would expect, me in his bed to warm it. And that was the problem. His bed wasn’t in Sea Trail, whereas mine was.

  A flash above me drew my eye and I looked up. There on the top of the cliff was Roman, silhouetted against the night, his uniform pants and shirtsleeves flapping in the breeze. I could see that he had his hat tucked under his arm. But I couldn’t see any part of his face. I began the long trek up while he started down.

  “You looked so sad down there pacin’ back and forth.”

  “Oh, not really. Just thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “Amy, me, you, us.”

  “Wow, makes me feel shallow.”

  “Why, what were you thinking about?”

  “This ragin’ hard-on you left me with last night.” I laughed and every bit of my blue mood left me. He put his arm around my shoulder and we walked

  back to the house. He was tired, I could feel it. When we went inside I could see it. “Why don’t you let me bathe you and then if you’re still up for it, I will show you some Tantric tricks I found in one of your books in the den. They were under the heading of Honoring the Lingam, and I believe one is called, Playing the Flute, and the other is called Jewel Sucking.

  His loud mournful groan was all I needed to hear. “Come,” I said, leading him by the hand to the bedroom, “tonight I send you out of the galaxy and back.” And I did. His hand on the back of my neck rubbing in small circles after I had pleasured him slowed and then stopped and then he fell sound asleep. “I love you Roman,” I whispered as I stood to get a warm cloth to clean him.

  “Then marry me,” he whispered, and I had to smile. We would kill each other if we kept up this pace.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Last day in Paradise The next day Roman was off so he talked me into all manner of things. First he took me out for that promised windsurfing lesson, and I learned that it’s a lot harder than it looks. While he floated across the waves seeming effortlessly, I was rarely able to stay up more than a few seconds.

  “This is exhausting!” I yelled as he whipped by me for the umpteenth time. Why do people do this!”

  “It’s an acquired skill!” he hollered back, “Don’t give up!”

  Then he insisted on driving me downtown to get one of those henna tramp stamps and hung over the guy installing it, making sure I was decently covered at all times. Like this twenty-something guy was going to be interested in me, but it made me feel good that Roman thought it could be a possibility.

  We had lunch at a lovely outdoor café and then went back to the house for a nap, which surprisingly turned out to be just a nap. We were both tired and needed a refresher. We slept from two to four and then took drinks out to the cabana chairs on the beach.

  “You know these chairs would be perfect for that Mother and Child meditation thing.” It had felt surprisingly good to have him suckle on my breasts like that, for so long.

  He looked up from the book he was reading and nodded, “Sure, no sex afterward though, remember . . .”

  “Well forget that, it’s our last night together.”

  “We don’t have to have sex tonight. “

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I want to go home, but I don’t.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean, I want you to go

  home, but I don’t.”

  “You want me to go home?” I was hurt.

  “I can’t help it, I need sleep.”

  “Oh.”

  He went back to his book and I, restless in my chair, sipped on my drink and then went to the water’s edge to sit and draw in the sand.

  After a while I felt a shadow and looked up. “You look lost,” he said in a husky voice.

  “I am. I don’t know how to say something to you.”

  “You don’t know how to say you don’t want to marry me,” he said as he put his hand down and pulled me up beside him.

  “It’s not so much that I don’t want to, I just don’t think I can. I mean this has been nice, much nicer than I dreamed it could be when we first met. But I’m not sure I’m ready and I’m not sure why not. I just don’t feel that I can. You intimidate me, or I should say all your past loves intimidate me. I don’t feel I can compete against all the women out there who want you for themselves. Tom let me down by dying way too soon and showing me what it’s like to lose something so dear. I couldn’t stand it if I lost you, to either another woman or Valhalla as you say.”

  “So, you’ve decided to protect your heart. I understand that.”

  “Do you really? Because I really don’t.”

  He chuckled, “For me there’s so much irony here. I finally propose, buy the ring, do the whole on your knees deal, and I am rejected. But it’s not something I want to argue any woman into. We can do as you wish and continue as we were or if it’s better for you . . .”

  He never finished the sentence, but we both knew what he meant. And I knew it would be better to end it before I really got hurt. We were so geographically undesirable, seeing each other often enough to keep the interest going would take all the stamina we had.

  “I know what would be best for me,” I teased as I pulled off my top and threw it on the beach. “Let’s practice that from Here to Eternity scene. Who do you want to be Burt Lancaster or Janet Leigh?”

  “Wasn’t that Deborah Kerr?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t like her.”

  “How can you not like Deborah Kerr?”

  “Too pretty, I don’t want you kissing her.”

  He chuckled and pulled me down to the sand. “You’re a twit, you know that?”

  “Indeed I do, now kiss me, and you have to do it right, the hands holding me down and all.”

  “I believe I’m familiar with the scene and more than familiar with holding you down.”

  His lips took mine in a lazy, soft kiss. Then his arms, propping himself up, held mine, and he bent to my nipple. />
  “I don’t remember this part,” I murmured.

  “This was the outtake.”

  Chapter Forty-six

  Too much of a good thing He offered to change his schedule so he could see us off but I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want or need a sad good-bye. He insisted I take the clothes he had purchased for me, and I did take a few, but I didn’t want to manage another suitcase and left the rest. On his dresser I left the diamond ring he had bought me. But I didn’t touch the claddagh, I left it the way he had left it, on the finger he had left it.

  Amy was none too thrilled about going home either. She and Stacey had become good friends, and Rainbow had become her constant companion, keeping her in stitches with his ribald curses.

  We both cheered some on the last leg of the journey, happy to know we’d be home, and getting back to our routine. Amy had several legal pads where she had jotted things down she didn’t want to forget to tell her attorney, another for all the things she owned before the marriage, and another for all the evil things she was going to do to Carlos if he didn’t get jail time.

  It was good she had a project she could jump into. Me? I had bumpkiss, the golf season was behind us, Thanksgiving was imminent and I didn’t plan on sharing it with anyone, and the holiday loomed, desolate and lonely while I looked forward to nothing more than emptying my DVR of everything recorded while I was away.

  Two days after we got back, Cat knocked on the door and threw me a big gaudy hat. “Get your purse, we’re going to the Calabash Garden Tea Room. I feel like scones, meltin-your-mouth apple and cinnamon scones.”

  “Did you call for a reservation?”

  “Yes, I did. I reserved a high tea luncheon.” “I don’t think I can eat that much.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll eat what you don’t. This is one