Author's note: DO NOT read A TRUE AND TRAGIC SOUTHERN ROMANCE until after you read part 2.
Moonlight painted the humble bedroom a soft gray with hard shadows. The spring breeze brought the delicious sent of camellias and Confederate jasmine to the couple who lay on their marital bed.
Ora Bradey roused enough to turn to her husband and rest her cheek on her right arm. The breeze was cool on her bare shoulders, uncovered by the soft cotton gown that barely came to her knees. It felt good enough for her to either go back to sleep... or to seek the warmth of her husband's body. Jim, breathing lightly, must have felt Ora's movements and rolled to face her, each feeling the other's gentle breath on their skin.
No words passed between them; there was no need for words when hearts knew each other so well. Their hands began to explore each other's... explore is the wrong word. Ora knew Jim's body as well as she knew her own, and Jim knew Ora from toe to head top, the curve of her hip, the tenderness of her breast, and oh, the sweet, sweet taste of her lips. Familiar places were touched, pressed, kissed, as both loved like angels from heaven were guiding them.
Ora felt both of Jim's hands grip the sides of her gown and pull it up to her waist. He did not ask, she did not offer to raise her weight from her back as he exposed her legs to himself, but she willingly spread her knees, giving him access to her most intimate parts. Without looking she found his member with both hands and guided him to its destination.
Jim began to move, not gently, rutting like the stallion he was. Ora's vaginal muscles clinched tight around the object of her greatest pleasure as it thrust into her over and over. She moaned as the first wave swept over her. Jim thrust more rapidly, his moment approaching, and filled her as her second orgasm spun the bed around, or so it seemed to her.
Jim lay on her a minute, then rolled onto his back with Ora under his arm, smiling.
"Momma?" chirped a tiny voice from behind a creaking door. Jim and Ora both smiled, first at each other, then at the curly haired toddler clad in a night shirt made from a soft flour sack and carrying a rag doll made from another flour sack. Audrey shyly peeked around the door.
"I s'eep wit' you, Momma?" Audrey asked. Jim chuckled and Ora smiled, then patted the bed, inviting the child to join them. Audrey climbed in and over Ora to take her place between her parents.
The moonlight had been replaced by the gray of pre-dawn when Ora awoke to find herself alone. Jim and Audrey were nowhere to be seen.
Ora jumped to her feet and pulled the gown off over her head. Without washing herself or bothering to put on drawers she grabbed her heavy work dress and headed out of the bedroom. Between the bedroom door and the front door of the parlor she had the dress on and half buttoned. As her bare feet hit the dirt outside the front door she started running, the dress still unbuttoned, revealing her body in a most indecent manner.
Her bare feet propelled her down the dirt road like a deer, running as fast as she could. The partially buttoned dress flapping obscenely, revealed legs, buttocks and breasts as she ran. If anyone had been awake to see her she would not have cared as she ran to where she knew she would find Jim.
She turned off the main road onto the wagon trail. Tall grass slapped at her ankles. Sweat soaked the dress as she neared the oak tree, their trysting place before they were married. Truth be told, half the ladies in the township had lost their virginity under that ancient oak, and God only knew how many Choctaw women had done the same before the English came. Still, it was THEIR place and she knew he'd be there.
Ora did not slow down as she approached. She began shouting fifty yards from the tree, "JIMMY!" Within arm's reach of the tree she stopped to catch her breath. "Jimmy! Jim Bradey! I know you're here!"
"I'm here," said Jim behind her. Ora spun on her bare feet, the dress falling over her shoulder, her left breast in full view.
Jim was wearing the only suit he'd ever owned, the one he'd worn on their wedding day. Dear God, he looks so handsome she thought, but she hadn't come to love him again.
"I ain't your wife no more, Jimmy!" she gasped, catching her balance by leaning against the tree, half hiding behind it as if he would throw something at her. He wouldn't, of course; Jim would never raise a hand to her, not to the mother of his child.
"I ain't your wife no more!" she repeated, trying to make herself believe it. "You can't come t' mah bed no more! Ah'm marryin' Lee t'day!"
Jim stood silently, expressionless. She hated that look. What was he thinking behind those cool blue eyes? What was she thinking, trying to leave him behind to marry another man? Dear God, she thought, I can't help it! I want Jim! She stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against him, covering his mouth with hers. She tried to grind her crotch against his, begging him to become erect, to take her right here under their tree; To take her like the night he took her virginity and asked her to be his wife. Jimmy didn't respond.
Ora shrugged the dress off her shoulders, letting it fall around her feet, and stood naked in front of him. Her eyes pleading with him to take her one more time, she couldn't find a voice to say a single word. Jim didn't blink.
"Momma?"
