Chapter 8: Sex with Paige
I held the sheet and blanket for her, and Paige crawled in next to me. My hand went immediately to her ass, and aside from the flimsy nightgown, I felt nothing but soft flesh.
She wiggled her body in an attempt to close every inch of space between us. I groaned.
"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"
"No," I managed to say. She'd eased her tummy back a bit, making the way she was bending my cock bearable.
I moved my hand under the nightgown, up her back, feeling the soft skin against my fingers. She kissed me; I kissed back, letting her have her way with my tongue.
God! How I wanted this. Nothing else mattered. My animalistic instincts had taken over. I could think of nothing else but mating with her.
Uppermost in my mind was getting the nightgown off, and from the way she was wiggling her body, we were of a single mindset. I hoped so. She unglued her lips from mine long enough for the garment to be drawn over her head, and then our lips were like two suction cups battling for supremacy.
My right arm was under her and that hand held her close while the other one roamed. It was squeezing her ass one second, flat against her back the next, and then between us, tweaking her breasts. I hoped I was doing everything right, and from the way she moaned into my mouth, I was.
My hand left her breasts, floated over her tummy and stopped moving when I felt her pubic hair. Paige froze for a second and I wondered what I'd done wrong. Then, with her right heel planted on the floor, she elevated her pelvis until my middle finger sank into her pussy.
The accumulation of sweat between our bodies, combined with the sweet-smelling moisture that was surrounding my finger, were making me insanely needy. I couldn't wait any longer.
Paige must have felt the same way. As I rose onto my knees and carefully lowered my shorts, she settled on her back, positioning her legs wide.
I stabbed blindly, once, twice, the third time was the charm. We were joined, barely. Even in the dark, her grunt told me that she needed time. I waited while she adjusted her ass. With another grunt, she lifted it off the blanket. I pushed forward and sank in to the hilt. Another grunt signaled for more time. I kissed her nose, her cheeks and her chin until she wrapped her arms around me and slid her tongue between my lips.
As I began to move, the realization struck me that Paige wanted this as much as me. My need was as strong as ever, but it was not mine alone now. I tried to relax and enjoy our first union. I wanted it to be good. Somehow I knew that something was missing. We were fucking, not making love.
It was not all my fault. Paige was just as wild as me. She dug her fingernails into my back, growled like a bitch in heat, and bit my lip until it bled. When I slowed down, she locked her ankles around me, and demanded that I 'fuck her until she gave me permission to stop.'
When I gave up and let my seed flood her pussy, she shuddered, let her feet drop to the floor, kept her arms around me, whimpered, told me she was sorry if she'd hurt me, and encouraged me to let my weight slump on top of her.
We lay still, breathing hard, collecting our thoughts. I supported my weight with my elbows and we stayed joined as long as possible.
"I must go," she said when my cock slipped out of its confinement.
"Stay with me," I implored.
"Let me up before I make your sheet unbearable to sleep on."
"Come back," I said, lifting my body.
"I wish I could, but you know that's impossible," she said, getting to her feet.
I held on to her hand for one more precious second, and released it, knowing that she was right. She fled from the room, carrying her nightgown.
Except for hearing water running in the upstairs bath, I didn't see or hear Paige until the following morning. Needless to say, I'd slept well.
The household came to life early for a Saturday. I folded my blanket and sheet, got dressed, and shaved in the downstairs bathroom.
Talk at breakfast centered on the baseball game. Pat sat next to me and Mona sat next to Paige on the opposite side of the table. Mrs. Peoples, Florence as she told me to call her, presided from one end and Mr. Peoples, first name Arthur per the will, sat at the head of the table and said little.
"Does Amanda have email?" Mona directed her question at me. Paige and I exchanged a look before I answered in the affirmative.
"I'd like to tell her that I met you and that you showed me her picture."
"She'd like that. I'll give you her address," I said, and watched her grin at me. In some respects, Mona reminded me of my daughter. There was no physical resemblance; it was purely their little-girl inquisitiveness.
While Paige ran upstairs for her overnight bag, Florence urged me to have seconds of everything.
Mona brought a paper and pen, wanting me to write Amanda's email address. She complained when Paige returned to the room, saying that she didn't see why her mother had to leave so soon.
"We're having guests for dinner," she said, and this prompted questions that took ten minutes to answer.
Mr. Peoples and Pat came outside to see us off. I was arranging Paige's overnight bag and my new coat in the extended cab of my truck when I remembered the check. I told Paige to open the glove compartment. The check fell out. She first accused me of being careless for leaving the check in the glove compartment all night, but then softened.
I watched her get out of the truck, approach her father, and talk quietly to him as she handed him the check. He looked my way, smiled, and hugged his daughter. Pat looked on, completely at a loss as to what was taking place.
She directed me through the neighborhood, and we were on the expressway, heading south, before she spoke of the check.
"You can't imagine what a difference it's going to make in their lives. He hasn't been able to work since the stroke, and their retirement doesn't go very far. I hope they don't go on a spending spree."
"Is that the reason you moved back home?"
