Nancy - a Tale of Revenge - Prologue

I was 24 when I met Nancy. I was home on leave, a full 23 days before I had to report to Fort Benning, Georgia. I had been accepted to Ranger school, well, I had been invited to Ranger school and had jumped at the chance, and I was home in my small town in south Alabama. A friend from high school, he had been the quarterback while I was catching his passes on our way to a runner-up finish at the state tournament in high school and we had been tight as only kids on a winning team can be, was getting married and I wasn't about to miss that.

I surprised him by showing up at all. Hell, I hadn't been sure I'd be able to get away, the Army being what it is. But the orders had come through and I had managed to get into town the day before the wedding. There had been no time for a date, hell, even supposing one of the girls I had known back then was still in town and still had the same phone number.

So here I was, sitting in a pew in my class A uniform all squared away as a good soldier should be. It was about the only thing I had appropriate for such an occasion and, honestly, I was proud of it. I was proud of the stripes on my sleeves and the ribbons on my chest. I was most proud of the blue Combat Infantry Badge over the top of the ribbons signifying that I was one of the guys that had actually done it, gone there, hunted bad guys, and pulled triggers.

I had exchanged quick "hellos" and hugs with several people, it was, after all a small town, and then found a seat next to a distant cousin who, I thought, would be interesting in bed later. When the formalities started I watched and enjoyed and chatted her up a bit. I was pretty sure she was interested.

Benjamin, the groom, came in looking good, I thought, if a bit thicker than he had been back in the day. He stood up on the dais of the church, I suppose there's a formal name for that raised area but never bothered to look it up, in his blue suit and brilliant red tie, something I guess is the modern equivalent of last generation's tuxedo.

It was a big affair. I watched as the first five bride's maids entered, groomsmen on their arms, doing that odd little step-close-step procession. I recognized three of the five and had bedded two of them back when the football star had his choice of the girls. I caught the eye of Frankie, who had been the left tackle on the team, bigger than ever, and we exchanged grins.

But it was the last one in, the Matron of Honor if I have the nomenclature right, that captured my heart.

Okay, okay, no, I don't believe in love at first sight but I damn sure DO believe in lust at first sight and this was an attraction that hit me right down there at the brain stem. There was no thought involved at all. My dick got hard and my breath caught. I was, literally, unable to look away from her.

My Nancy always makes an entrance, and this time it was no different. She's 5'9" tall making her just an inch shorter than me and a couple of inches taller in the heels she likes to wear. At a shade over 200 pounds, she's big. Not fat. Not obese. Just big and powerful, an Earth Mother and Fertility Goddess. She looked particularly good right then. The bridesmaids were in a rainbow of colors and hers was a blue so bright it made sapphires look like something you'd get from a Cracker Jacks box or topaz look pale and watery. It was a good look for her and the cut of the dress put six inches of cleavage on display and showed off her figure. The 4" spike heels she wore did good things for her legs and the way her big beautiful ass moved under the tight dress.

But it wasn't that that really caught my eye.

Well, okay, who am I bullshitting here? The dress wasn't the ONLY thing that caught my eye. Nor was it her big, powerful but soft arms, broad powerful shoulders, or, yes, that wonderfully shapely big ass.

What caught my eye was her face, surrounded by a halo of the thickest auburn hair I had ever seen. It was a big face, round, with perfectly smooth skin. It made you wonder if she had pores. Her eyes were big and brown and the eye makeup, a pale green with eyeliner that put a little upturned point at the corners giving her a slightly exotic look, was perfect for her face. Her nose was small and straight, her cheeks round, her mouth was small with the brightest red lipstick I had ever seen, and her chins, both of them, only added to the overall appearance of being a big, sexy woman. When she smiled, her teeth were ridiculously white.

And I was smitten.

The cousin no longer existed.

Finally came the bride with that ridiculous bridal march playing. I didn't know her but I wasn't surprised. Benjamin, never Ben, had always had a thing for blondes with big tits and this one didn't disappoint. Her name was Carla and she had a mass of black curly hair peeking out from under the white bridal hat and veil, and about 10 inches of blue-veined cleavage on display. The surprise was that she wasn't blonde but, well, tastes can change in six years I suppose.

So they did the thing. It was a Catholic wedding so we did the kneeling and standing and sitting, all very formal. I took my cues from the cousin who still seemed interested. In the end, I know it didn't take hours, it only seemed like it, he kissed her and they walked out as we stood and applauded and then threw birdseed at them.

The reception was at the local American Legion hall and the cousin, Marji was her name, caught a ride with me. She sat close in the middle-80s Chevy I had rented at the local Rent-a-Wreck, and I would not have been surprised if she had grabbed my dick right there.

But she didn't and at the hall, she got swept away by a gaggle of girls (a giggle of girls?). I watched and waited. The band was setting up and I talked to the guitar player about his Les Paul. Just killing time, waiting, a beer in hand but not much of it consumed. I was watching the door.

The bridal party came in then, Benjamin and Carla in the lead. Nancy was right behind them, like a force of nature she moved ahead of them, clearing a path for Benjamin and Carla to get to the head table. I watched, fascinated, and waited.

Finally, Benjamin caught my eye and his face split into the grin I recognized so well from when we would pull off the play. He broke away from Carla and Nancy, who I didn't know yet, and almost ran to me.

"27 Quebec 94 Left on Three," he yelled in a voice I would never forget. "HAH!" I yelled back signifying I understood just as the coach had drilled into us.

He had just called the play we had used successfully at least once in every game. It would only work once, but it always worked once.

We embraced, hugging hard.

"SO glad you made it, man," he said, pushing me to arm's length and looking me up and down.

"Carla," he said, "Come over here and meet the best wide receiver to come out of this town's high school."

So we met and hugged and then they were swept away in the crowd.

But that was okay. I was looking for that Matron of Honor who had captured my attention.

And she wasn't hard to find.

Nancy is a big girl with a big voice and a big laugh. She was standing in a group with the wedding party folks, groomsmen, and maids of honor, all looking very wedding party.

Now that I had her spotted I wasn't in any hurry. I found some other friends from the old days, team members mostly but a couple of old neighborhood friends too. We shared a few beers and a few stories although, if we're being honest here, I was the only one who had done anything really interesting. Oh, Steve was a successful business owner who sold car tires, Jeff was a construction foreman, running a concrete crew, and Bonnie had married, divorced, remarried, divorced, and made it clear she wouldn't mind making me number three. I thought I was doing important things, but when I tried to talk about them it became obvious I was offending their sensibilities.

So I mostly listened. We did dinner, rubber chicken, even more rubbery meatloaf, and some other stuff. Pretty disappointing all in all.

The Best Man did his toast, something that gave me a bit of a twinge since I should have been in his place. Cake was cut and shoved into faces. And finally, the band started up.

I headed straight for Nancy, I didn't know her name yet, and offered my hand.

"I always make it a point to get at least one dance with the prettiest girl in the room," I said, a well-practiced line on my part.

She looked up at me, speculatively I thought, and then looked me up and down, slowly, her eyes lingering for a few seconds on the ribbons on my chest, before they slowly moved up and met mine.

She smiled and I think that was the moment when I knew I would marry this woman.

"Okay, soldier," she said, standing, a bit taller than me in the heels, "and thank you for your service."

I flashed my absolute best, my "A" game, my well-practiced, boyish grin, and said, "happy to serve."

The music was ending and I was offering a silent hope for something slow. Karma was with me and the frontman of the band went into a reasonably competent version of that old song from the doo-wop era, "Blue Velvet."

In my arms, she was big and buxom, soft with strong muscle under the softness. She was a full armload as my hand settled on her back, but not so big I couldn't reach around her.

"Marry me," I said, the first words I had uttered since my little introductory come-on, and she giggled.

"Shouldn't we at least exchange names?" she asked, a wide smile on her pretty face.

"Well, if we must," I said and pushed her away, stopped, moving, extended my hand, and said, "I am David."

She grinned then, a kind of crooked, mouth pulled to the side, speculative grin, and took my hand in a firm handshake. "Nancy," she said.

I stepped off, smartly and smoothly I thought, back into the tempo of the music, resuming the dance.

"Sooooooo," I said, deliberately drawing out the vowel, "what do you think? A Spring wedding? Maybe outdoors? Military honors with the crossed swords and the whole thing?"

This time it was a smile, not a grin, and she said, "shouldn't you at least buy me dinner first?"

I held her hand, pulling, leading, and walked her back to her table.

"Give me your phone," I said, smiling.

There was that speculative look again but she bent down, offering an amazing length of cleavage in the process, pulled her cellphone out of her little clutch purse, and handed it to me. I keyed in my number, handed the phone back to her, took her hand, kissed it, and said, "I know you're busy tonight so I'll let you get to it."

I liked that she looked a little disappointed.

I tracked down cousin Marji then. She was as much fun as I remembered from my days spending summers in a small town in central Alabama. She was pretty and smart and strong. She had been a gymnast and was still trim. Tall and blonde, a natural blonde as I confirmed later, she was a good dancer and lured me onto the dance floor more often than I had ever done in my life.

Later, she was just as athletic in bed. She was broad-shouldered and small-breasted with large dark tan nipples. Her hips were wide, evidence of the four children she had borne, and her belly showed a cute little pouch covered in a tracery of stretch marks. She was one of those natural blondes with a covering of almost downy body hair, very fine, almost invisible, and pubic hair that was a very light brown, thick and curly.

I chuckled when I had her lift her arms straight over her head to pull the silky turtleneck shirt she wore under a bright red blouse and found her to be one of those women who had quit shaving under her arms. Like her pubic hair, what was there was that light brown color, thick and very curly. She yelped when I plucked one.

Our first time was very athletic. We were both young, well, she was a few years older but still young, and I think she was enjoying a respite from the duties of being a mom. She was slick and very loose as I entered her but suddenly tight when she squeezed with her vaginal muscles, and her fingers were strong when they dug into my back. Her lovemaking was almost frantic and when she came she cried out my name three times, loud enough that I worried a bit about other guests in the motel, each cry was punctuated with a little odd whimpering sound.

"David."

"Uhnnnnnggggggggsssssssssss."

"David."

"Uhnnnnnggggggggsssssssssss."

"David."

"Uhnnnnnggggggggsssssssssss."

She had beaten me to her climax, so I just settled onto her, enjoying the firmness of her body under me.

We lay like that for a long, relaxed while, both breathing hard.

Finally, she smiled up at me, taking in a deep breath.

"It's a good thing I'm a happily married woman," she said, "or I'd tame you, wild cousin."

I chuckled and thrust, making her draw a sharp breath.

"Maybe, maybe not," I said, thrusting again.

She giggled and twisted and then she was on top, flexible as an otter and strong as only a gymnast can be.

She grasped my wrists and pinned them over my head.

Oh, I could have escaped. I had been through an even dozen special schools for unarmed combat. The guys who taught those classes, almost all with stripes on their arms rather than some sort of metal on their shoulders had been, to a man, vicious fuckers who had done things that would make most people puke. Lessons had been direct, often painful, and always effective. I could have used the things they had taught me.

But I didn't.

Instead, I grinned.

"Rape," I sort of stage whispered.

"That's right, bitch," she said, grinning. She bent and nipped at my earlobe and her hips started a rhythm that was undeniable.

"Come on, slut," she said, giggling, "put out."

"I surrender," I said.

She rode me until she came again, and this time I let my control go. We came together actually, and it was as good as I had ever had. In her climactic spasm I felt her love honey, her "nectar of the Gods" as I had once seen it called, soak my balls and run down the crack of my ass.

"Oh shit, YES," she cried out, her head thrown back, her voice a little bubbly.

I felt the tension in her body, how rigid she was, and she held that position for several seconds before she rocked forward and relaxed onto me, limp as a cat.

"Oh Davey," she said, "I'd tame you and you'd love it."

I grinned and stroked her back, starting at that thick mass of hair on her head that ran well down her back, until I cupped her ass and patted it, none too gently.

Nature, being nature, I softened and slipped out to a sudden gush of thick warmth, a combination of her honey and my semen.

She rolled off and stretched, again making me think of a cat, and it was my turn to capture wrists and pin them over her head.

She was sweating and I liked the salt taste as I licked that patch of thick curly hair at her armpit.

She giggled and went, "ewwwwwwwwwwwww."

I chuckled and licked again.

I kissed her then, a lingering, basking in the afterglow kind of a kiss.

The second time was different, but not necessarily better. There wasn't the urgency of the first time, but taking it slow and gentle was fun too. Her nipples, thick hot dogs about an inch long atop a cone of tightened areola erectile tissue, were sensitive and I enjoyed suckling and playing with them. Her clitoris, another thick hot dog, this one protected under a fairly thick pad of fat that was her clitoral hood, was sensitive and she enjoyed it when I made little circles, making it roll around my finger. Her labia were thick and her inner lips hung free, attesting to the children she had born. It turned out her fingers were sensitive as were her toes. I know, I explored all of her.

When I had her on her belly, her hips up, I laid my palms flat on her ass and spread her cheeks, exposing the tiny puckered opening there, and bent forward and blew on it gently. I could hear her fingernails scrabbling against the sheet when I did that. She seemed to be enjoying it so I drug my tongue up the long slit of her labia, deposited some of her natural lubricant where I was playing, and took her anally.

She shuddered and groaned as I entered her, but her back arched and she pushed back against me, accepting my full length. She came a half dozen times, quickly, and I got my second release of the night too.

We were both panting then. I was young and healthy and in great shape, but I was only human, and that had been a LOT of energy.

We lay in each other's arms, touching, kissing gently.

I'm not sure which one slept first.

I know she was the one who woke first. I know because I woke with her playing with my dick.

"Jesus," I said before I even opened my eyes, "insatiable wench, I'm tired."

She giggled and I felt her take me into her mouth.

It worked.

Our third time, it turned out to be our last time and, for that matter, my last time with anyone but my Nancy, was mutual oral and it was truly great sex. Her womanscent was a powerful perfume in my nose and I was completely hard again quickly. Our mixed tastes, her nectar, and my semen, were a heady brew indeed. We both took our time. I think we both knew it would be our last. But it lingered and when it was over my face was slick with her and she had me on her lips and chin.

We laughed and showered. Then we went down to the restaurant, had breakfast, and I loaded her into her Yukon, kissed her goodbye, and watched her drive away.

[Author's note: No, this is not miscategorized. For the record, this is NOT autobiographical. This story is purely fiction, okay, fantasy if you will. If you're curious to see how things develop with Nancy and David and, more importantly, why I have called it "A Tale of Revenge," drop a comment. I DO read them all. And if not, well, maybe I can find another venue interested in them. I know I am.]