EX-CON

by Scott Hildreth

  As he continued to carefully and quietly lick my pussy, I raised my ass from the bed and arched my back. His hands cupped the bottom of my butt, holding me against his soft mouth. Being able to actually see him in the well-lit room was as much of a turn-on as anything, and seeing him do what he was doing was driving me insane.

  A few more seconds of his sucking and licking my clit, I released my lower lip and groaned into the open room. The orgasm continued for as long as he licked me, which was a period of time long enough for me to exhaust myself fully.

  As I collapsed onto the bed and sucked the air for my next breath, he glanced up and smiled. Still fighting against my heaving lungs, I looked down at him and wanted to say something, but realized doing so was going to be impossible. As I waited for my mind to return to the present, and my breathing to allow me to say what it was I wanted to say, he pulled himself upward and guided himself into me.

  Holding my shoulders in his hands, and without speaking, his every movement and continued gentle touch said everything his mouth did not. Slowly working his hips back and forth, he moved his thickness in and out with precision, kissing me on the lips and neck the entire time.

  Although having Jackson tie me up and fuck me gave me an all new level of excitement to look forward to, having him do what he was now doing elevated me to a different sexual platform altogether.

  One that wasn’t in the moment, but one that told me long after the sex was over, I would cling to the memories of the event, knowing it was not only special for some reason to him, but special in an equal manner to me. Dirty talk and the paddle were some of my favorite things on the rough side of sex, but this was something I had never really experienced.

  He continued to kiss my neck and shoulders, holding my butt in the air and grinding against me slowly and passionately the entire time. As the sound of my wetness provided the music for his sexual dance to continue, he kissed and worked his hips in tune with my soul.

  In a matter of minutes, I sank my fingertips into his back, opened my mouth, and bit into the muscle on his shoulder. As I moaned into his flesh he proceeded to push me over the edge and into a place only he could push me.

  And I erupted into a heavenly state of being at the same time he erupted into me.

  When all of the moaning stopped, he collapsed onto my chest and kissed my neck lightly. As our presence in the bedroom somehow changed from two people making love to become one loving sexual being, I must have fallen asleep.

  And that night, in my dreams, I was the envy of every woman on earth.

  JACK

  August 23, 2006

  Although I had never been one to allow people I didn’t know or respect to have an influence my life, seeing what outsiders did or hearing their thoughts, and later considering them as an option wasn’t unheard of. More often than not, I dismissed the actions, thoughts, or opinions of others, and did whatever it was I thought was best or appropriate.

  “Some in the lifestyle look at it as an equivalent of marriage. Others see it as another level of commitment, a step higher on the ladder of commitment. I can’t be any more committed to you, Em, and I’m pretty fucking sure you can’t be any more committed to me, can you?” I asked.

  “No, I sure can’t,” she responded from behind me as she gazed down at the table in front of the bench where I was seated.

  “This isn’t a conventional collar. I don’t buy into all of that ‘owned by’ or ‘property of’ shit. You’re a woman, an individual, and you’ll never be property of mine. You and I have agreed to take this journey together, and I’m just as much yours as you are mine. Fuck, I don’t know, I just want something we can share,” I paused and glanced down at the two pieces of flat silver I had purchased.

  “You know, people get married and share rings as a gesture in commitment, right?” I asked as I glanced upward.

  She nodded her head, “Uh huh.”

  “Well, this will be kind of like that,” I explained, “And for as long as we are together, we’re never going to take ‘em off, understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she responded.

  “You make me happy, Em,” I said as I shifted my eyes toward the bench.

  “Thank you. You make me pretty fucking happy, too,” she chuckled.

  I slid the longer piece of silver in front of me, taped it to the steel table, and picked up the hammer. After selecting the appropriate letters from the uppercase steel stamps, I hammered the words and Roman numerals into the silver strap. I admired the craftsmanship for a moment, lifted the piece of freshly stamped metal from the bench, and stood from my seat.

  In the center, our anniversary and our names were clearly marked. There would be no doubt to anyone who had an opportunity to see it what it represented. I held the soon to be necklace in front of her and allowed her to accept it as hers. As she took it from my hands, she smiled.

  “I can’t wait to wear it,” she said softly, “How are you going to bend it?”

  “I’ll form it with a rubber hammer over that piece of scrap pipe I bought,” I said as I tilted my head toward the table.

  She glanced up and smiled. “I can’t wait.”

  “Let me make mine,” I said as I sat down on the bench.

  I hammered the same inscription on a one inch wide sterling silver strap I had purchased for me to wear as a cuff.

  I stood from the bench and stared down at the cuff admiringly.

  JACKSON XI-XXI-MMVI EMILY

  I extended my hand, took the piece of steel from her, and laid both straps on the bench beside the pieces of pipe. After a few swings from the rubber mallet, the silver was bent perfectly to form the necklace and the bracelet they were intended to be.

  “Until our love for each other ends, and I pray it never does, don’t remove this for any reason,” I said as I opened the formed circle and stretched it around her neck.

  “I won’t,” she said under her breath as I bent the strap into place.

  I had purchased a half inch thick piece of sterling silver for her necklace and a one inch wide piece for my bracelet. The thickness of the metal made bending it by hand difficult, even for me. The quality of the jewelry was such that it would without a doubt last a lifetime

  “Here,” I said as I handed her the bracelet.

  “What?” she murmured.

  “Slide it onto my wrist, and just turn it to the side…” I said as I held my left arm in front of her.

  She slid the bracelet over my wrist, twisted it into place, and gazed down at it for a long moment.

  “You won’t remove this, either?” she asked.

  “I don’t intend to,” I said as I admired it.

  “Promise?” she asked.

  “I can’t promise it won’t come off, Em,” I paused and cleared my throat.

  “Listen, I don’t ever make a promise I can’t keep. So I can only promise you I don’t intend to take it off or allow it to be removed, understand?” I said in a soft tone.

  Still gazing down at my wrist, she responded, “Yes, Sir.”

  As she glanced upward and her eyes met mine, a tear rolled down her cheek. It had been three months that we had been together, but I wasn’t counting. All I knew was how she made me feel, and as far as I was concerned, Em was the only woman on earth, and the only thing in my life that truly mattered.

  My brothers in the club remained close, but the bond, the love, and the relationship was much different with Em. Having my MC Brothers in my life allowed me to exist and feel as if I had the family I never had a kid.

  Having Em in my life allowed me to begin, for the first time, truly living life.

  “I love you, Emily,” I said as I wiped the tear from her cheek.

  It was the first time I had told her I loved her. She inhaled a choppy breath, exhaled, and began to softly cry.

  “Well, you’re late,” she sobbed as she reached to wipe the tears from her face.

  I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest, rubbing my hands along the
small of her back as I held her in my arms.

  “What’s that?” I whispered, confused by her response.

  “You’re late,” she sobbed, “I’ve been loving you for a while now.”

  I held her in my arms for some time, almost afraid to let her go, and equally afraid to speak. As we rocked back and forth in each other’s arms, I realized even more clearly that living life without Em would be impossible. The gesture of the bracelet and necklace were more for her than they were for me.

  I knew how I felt, and leaving her would kill me.

  She allowed me to see for the first time that not only is love blind, but luck is even more so, and it was by mere luck that we happened upon each other.

  As we rocked back and forth in the center of the garage, our teetering soon turned into a slow dance step. And, as we danced to a song that wasn’t playing, on a dance floor that didn’t exist, I fell a little more in love with the woman I was certain I would spend every day of my life loving no less than I loved at that exact moment.

  I closed my eyes, pressed her head to my chest, and continued to dance as if it were my last day on earth.

  Yet, I felt as if it were my first.

  EMILY

  September 13, 2006

  I finally came to the realization I didn’t need to do anything but exist to keep Jackson happy with me. I really don’t recall if it came as an epiphany one day, or if it was something that happened over the course of our time together, but one day things in my mind changed. I’m sure Jackson didn’t see any changes, but at least in my mind, I saw significant changes in my perception of life, myself, and our relationship’s ability to go the distance without effort.

  Now simply doing what made me feel complete and whole left me believing satisfying Jackson required nothing more than allowing nature to take its course. As long as the world kept spinning, we were both extremely happy.

  But as happy as I was, I wanted just a little bit more.

  “Jesus, Em. I’m telling you. One of these days,” he said as he wagged his fork toward me.

  “You likey?” I grinned.

  “You know, I’ve heard of this stuff, but I’ve never eaten it,” he said as he shoved a forkful of the eggs into his mouth.

  Seeing him so genuinely happy over something as simple as a meal satisfied me to no end. Cooking, in itself, satisfied me, and cooking for him satisfied me even more so. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for him to eat what I had prepared and dislike it, it actually had never happened. Some meals he seemed to like much more than others, and without a doubt, this was one of them.

  “So what’s in this sauce?” he asked.

  “You don’t want to know, you’ll probably never want them again,” I responded as I pressed my fork through the bottom of the English muffin.

  I felt no need to tell him making the hollandaise sauce was something that took several evenings of practice, ruining multiple batches before I figured out the perfect temperature, how to add the butter, and the need to stir in a few teaspoons of hot water when it got too thick. It was a time consuming process, and patience was key in the preparation.

  The repeated evenings of practice allowed me on this particular Saturday morning to make the perfect sauce for our eggs Benedict and look like a true professional.

  “Seriously, I want to know,” he said as he shook his egg filled fork over his plate.

  “Egg yolks, butter, Worchester sauce, lemon juice, white pepper, a little water, and a lot of time,” I responded.

  It really did taste good, and although I realized it wasn’t necessarily good for Jackson and his healthy diet, it was something we could enjoy together from time to time.

  “Add it to the list,” he said as he shoveled the last bite into his mouth.

  “Is there more?” he asked.

  I nodded my head as I stood from my seat.

  “Let me get it for you,” I said.

  “I’ll get it,” he said as he stood.

  “Just let me do it,” I sighed as I reached for his plate, “And what list?”

  “For your restaurant, I’m telling you, this stuff would make a puppy pull a freight train. The fellas would kill someone for a plate of this shit,” he said as he followed me to the stove.

  “I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I chuckled as I placed the English muffins in the toaster.

  After preparing his plate, I handed it to him and followed him into the dining room. As he walked in front of me picked up one of the English muffins and stuffed the entire thing into his mouth, egg and all. As he licked the hollandaise sauce from his fingers, I shook my head in what I wanted him to see as disbelief, but was actually pride.

  Jackson made me feel good about myself. I had never been a woman who lacked self-esteem, and actually prided myself in being just the opposite. But how Jackson made me feel as a result of what he did, what he said, and how he treated me in and out of the bedroom made me feel like I was truly the most important person in his life.

  And I knew from knowing him that he wasn’t a man who was easily impressed.

  He continuously praised me, be it verbally or from something as ridiculous as shoving an entire English muffin, Canadian bacon slice, and a baked egg into his mouth at once. His constant praise allowed me to understand just what I meant to him, and being that woman was all I ever wanted in life.

  Being that woman to him…

  Explaining how it made me feel was impossible. It was something that had to be experienced. I often felt sorry for the women I saw with men when I went shopping, or as we rode together in the poker runs, wondering just how they felt, knowing there was no way their man was as good as Jackson was. I felt blessed to have him in the capacity I had him, and thanked God each day for the place he had taken in my life.

  “We’ve talked about this a while back,” I said as I poked the last piece of my muffin with my fork.

  “What’s that?” he asked as he shoveled the breakfast into his mouth.

  “Well, summer’s leaving, and it’s almost October…” I said, pausing to allow him to pay attention to my request.

  He glanced up from his plate and grinned.

  “Your parents?” he asked.

  I nodded my head, giddy that he remembered. My mother’s birthday was on October 8th, and I had planned on driving to Montana to see her and my father. Having Jackson go with me, meet my parents, and see where I grew up would mean the world to me. I mentioned it once, and feared bringing it up again, but felt if I didn’t he sure wasn’t going to.

  No differently than any other girl, I wanted all of my concerns and problems to simply take care of themselves, and never actually have to address them. In my mind, mentioning it once to Jackson was the same as begging him to go, and his not remembering the date, location of the city, or why we were going would indicate he had no desire to go, and his lack of mentioning it as the date approached would do nothing but prove it.

  But that wasn’t the case.

  He remembered.

  “October 8th, isn’t that when you said her birthday was?” he asked as he wiped the little remaining hollandaise sauce from his plate with his finger.

  “Holy crap, you remembered the date?” I gasped.

  “Well, you fucking told me. Jesus, Em, I’m not a fucking dumb ass,” he chuckled.

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d remember,” I said.

  “Thanks, you little shit. Maybe after this breakfast settles, I’ll teach you a little lesson,” he said as he stood from his seat.

  “You done?” he asked.

  “I’ll get it,” I said as I pointed toward his chair.

  “I’ll get it. Hand me your plate,” he said.

  I handed him my plate, grinned, and did my best to relax. I was a little more excited than I expected I would be. The thought of him meeting my parents made me nervous, happy, and extremely content all at the same time. I had told my parents about him, and was completely truthful regarding who he was, and what he was like.

&nb
sp; Having parents who were not judgmental, open-minded, and ultimately sought only what was in my best interest was a true blessing. As Jackson walked into the dining room, he stared down at his hand as he extended his fingers and counted.

  “8th is a Wednesday. We can leave on the Friday, Saturday, whatever you want,” he said as he sat down.

  “I love you,” I said.

  “Well, I fucking love you too. Just let me know when we’re going,” he said with a nod as he reached for his cup of coffee.

  “I work the Friday before. Maybe if I pack Saturday we could leave Sunday, there’ll be like no traffic at all,” I shrugged.

  “Sunday sounds good, Em,” he responded.

  I stood from my seat, walked to where he sat, and wrapped my arms around his neck as I stood behind him. Nothing could make me happier than spending the rest of my life with him and I looked forward to what each day brought us. I now looked forward to the arrival of Thanksgiving and Christmas, and making a huge meal for him, his friends, and possibly even his sister.

  Although he spoke of his sister often, and went to see her from time to time, he was very protective of her. I hadn’t met her yet, but he assured me I would soon. I realized as she was the only family he ever had that he held her in a different place in his heart than most men held their sisters. In time, I was sure his sister and I would be the best of friends.

  “Now, I remembered about your mother’s birthday, did you remember about today?” he asked.

  I remembered nothing.

  I gazed into the kitchen, rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet, and held him in my arms. As I searched through my mind for any recollection of anything he had told me, he laughed and cleared his throat.

  “Got a club meeting about the Shovelheads, remember? Told ya I’d be gone most all afternoon, if not maybe into tonight,” he explained.

  “Oh, that. Yeah, I remembered,” I lied as I rested my chin against his shoulder

  He reached around, grabbed the back of my neck in his hand, pulled me forward, and almost flipping me onto the table.

  He pressed his mouth against my ear and exhaled a long sigh.