"Gail, oh Baby, don't do that. God, Baby, I'm trying to behave myself."
"Um-m-m," she responded sleepily, "I was dreaming. I could feel your hands."
Rolling her over, he was on top of her, resting his hardness against her heat. "See what you do to me." He moved against her. He was hard, so hard he hurt. He started kissing her and increased his exploration of her mouth when she responded, putting her arms around him, rubbing her hands up and down his back, reaching down as far as she could, pushing him tighter against her and lifting her hips.
She moved her hips up and down rubbing against him and mumbled, "Feels good."
He put his hand down between them, slipped his hand down inside her underwear, slid his finger between her labia and began to stimulate her, going around and around in a circle, as her breathing grew faster and faster. "Oh lord, you are so wet."
Suddenly he stopped, got off the bed, and walked across the room. Angrily, he jerked the top and bottom metal bars out of the door facing, opened the door, and escaped outside into the early morning light, taking deep breaths, bending over with his hands on his knees. When he turned around Gail was standing in the doorway, looking at him.
"I'm sorry, Howard," there were tears in her voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was ... I'm sorry." She turned and went back inside walking to the bed, bending over to pick up her jeans and sat on the side of the bed.
Howard followed her into the house. Almost afraid to get too near her, he sat down at the table, put his elbows on the table, and buried his head in his hands, groaning. He looked up when he heard her in the kitchen opening the window shutter and pulling the can of coffee out of the cabinet.
"Gail..."
She shook her head and finished filling the coffee pot, then put it on the fire but would not turn around and look at him. She was wearing an old thin man's undershirt and panties. When she reached up for the can of coffee, he could see a faint line of skin above her low cut underwear. He shook his head and smiled, wondering if she always wore tiny white bikini panties with little pink flowers, or did she change colors.
Howard stood and moved nearer to her, "Baby, I'm sorry. I woke up. I didn't know what I was doing. I just knew I had this warm delicious woman in my bed and I wanted her. Oh lord, I wanted you. I still do."
Still, she would not turn around and look at him. Knowing it was absolutely the wrong thing for him to do, but unable to stop himself, he walked the remaining few feet and put his arms around her. Pulling her back to his chest, and wrapping his arms around her, he was kissing her on the shoulder and working his way up to the soft spot beneath her ear.
In a trembling voice, Gail told him, "I don't know a lot about ... Ricky didn't touch ... he'd drink, and then he just wanted to, I guess the proper word is intercourse, but I thought of it as a much uglier word, then he would go to sleep." She paused a moment, sniffed and then continued, "I ... I used to avoid him. I'd stay up late and try to be so still when I went to bed, so he wouldn't wake up. He wasn't gentle or stuff, he was rough and he hurt me, not bad, just a little painful." She shuddered and took a deep breath. "He, ah ... he complained because I was too dry. Sometimes, he was so fast, he wouldn't get it in but just a minute, and then he'd say I wasn't sexy enough to give a man a decent hard on. I thought something was wrong with me."
Howard whispered in her ear, "Well, I've got news for him, you are not dry. My shorts are still wet from just touching you. And you can feel that the rest of his excuses were a bunch of bunk, too."
"Gary didn't ... he wouldn't ... he kept his clothes on ... his zipper scratched and it hurt, so I pushed him off and got up."
"Oh my, and I'm Mister Eveready. Doctor Jackson said we have to wait, and I don't want to. You kiss me like a mad woman and I think it's an invitation. I get anywhere near you and I'm so hard I hurt from wanting you. I'm not much better, am I?"
Gail turned around and Howard dropped his arms, looking down at her. The thin, lightly ribbed, material of the undershirt didn't disguise the soft roundness of her breasts. If anything, the fabric of the shirt enhanced her shape. Her nipples were hard and pushing against the soft fabric. Seeing where his attention was drawn to, she quickly folded her arms across her chest to hide herself from his view and started to turn around.
He caught her shoulder, stopped her from moving, and gently reached out to take her arms down, "Don't hide from me, Baby, please. I can't do much else, but I can admire your beauty."
"They're not, though." She held her arms out wide and said, "See, that's not beauty, there's nothing there, just two little bumps. That's what Melissa ... ah ... my mother called them. When I was in junior high school, she wouldn't even buy me a bra. She said I didn't have anything to put in one."
Slowly, watching her face, he put his hands out, placing them over her breasts. "There is more than enough to fill my hands." He bent forward and removed one hand, opened him mouth, closed it over one breast barely covered by the thin fabric, while he put his hand behind her and pulled her forward as he moved his tongue across the hard nipple. He heard Gail catch her breath and let out a soft groan, then stiffen her body when he sucked on the nipple.
She pleaded with him, "Please ... oh please, don't bite me." Putting her hands on each side of his face, she tried to push him away. "... please don't bite me ... it hurts, if you use your teeth."
Howard raised his head, stood up straight, dropped his arms, and looked her in the eyes, "If I knew where to find the bastard, I'd kill him."
He turned, walked across the room to the metal cot where he began the night, pulled his jeans on and jerked open a drawer in the small chest to pull out a pair of clean socks. He pulled the socks over his feet, not caring if they are straight or not and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on as he stomped his feet into his boots. He was out the door seconds later, saying nothing to Gail who stood beside the stove with the coffee pot boiling behind her. Only when she heard it boiling over and hissing in the fire did she shake herself out of the trance.
Howard slammed his feet into the ground as he walked. He cursed himself for a fool, and called another man so many despicable names he knew his mother would have given him the tongue--lashing of his life for saying them. Halfway to the small partially fenced area where the horses came for water, Howard put his hand in his pocket and realized he still had Gail's keys.
Turning around, he went back to the house, walked inside and stopped. Gail was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her and she was looking down at her hands, in her lap. She looked up at Howard, smiled, and asked, "Would you like me to fix you a cup of coffee?"
"No, keep your seat. I'll get it." He poured a cup of coffee and stood leaning against the kitchen counter. "Sweetheart, maybe you can tell me what it is. I look at you and I see a quiet person, so self--contained that I believe you have the confidence of a woman much older than I know you are. Then something happens and it's like you are a child, so frightened you can't even sleep alone without falling to pieces."