Maggie Redux Ch 2

It often happened, the runners high, when Maggie had had a workout the day before. As she made the turn out of the park, thinking that was one good thing about this town, she didn't have to worry about getting mugged or waylaid as she ran in the early mornings, she saw Bill Warren three blocks over, hurrying toward her house, flipping folded papers onto the ubiquitous front porches. She smiled at her memories of the boy. He had grown up before her eyes, from before Eddie was shot, tall but skinny, shuffling and stuttering when she spoke to him, into the big, good looking Fullback he'd become. Nice kid, she knew he liked to ogle her, and she enjoyed flirting with him, out there in the open, white kid and black woman, both kind of wishing they could drop down to the carefully mowed lawn and fuck each other's brains out.

Somehow, Maggie had assumed the kid was a good lover. It was a confidence when he looked at her, ever since about sophomore year, though she hadn't really noticed for a while, what with being upset about Eddie. But one morning he had touched her on the arm when she had choked up about some memory, without any shame, or fear. Just trying to soothe her, she had thought, but then he started touching her every chance he got. And he didn't have that sheepish look, just a nice smile. She enjoyed it. He probably just had lascivious dreams about her every once in a while, then fucked the shit out of some blonde.

She slowed down a little, so she would arrive home just as he got there. At least this kid liked her, as a person, even sweaty, disheveled and nasty smelling. She chuckled to herself as she rounded the corner toward home, seeing him striding down the block, with his little routine, reach back, fold, flip. She'd often wondered why he had kept delivering papers his senior year, going on nineteen, she assumed College next year. His dad was pretty well off, she thought, some sort of Wholesale business. She got to the gate first, and stopped, arching her back a bit so her boobs stuck up even higher. She knew the nips showed like that, too.

"Hey, stud muffin. You guys win Friday night?" He grinned, it was a nice grin, cocky, open, happy. Ah youth, she thought.

"Yeah, we did, Maggie. Killed 'em." He handed her the paper, and dragged the back of his hand over her forearm. She shook her head, and with her runners euphoria still churning her, leered at him, and took a step closer.

"Bill. Whatever are you doing?" She let a coquettish lilt into her words, and batted her eyes at him. She saw him swallow, then reach out to the side of her ribs, under the arms, where she was so wet. He rubbed the flat of his hand firmly there, then holding her eyes, lifted it up under his nose and sniffed deeply. Then he closed his eyes, and sighed.

Maggie felt the flush of it down to her toes. Part of her mind screamed "You fool, lettin' him show his puppy love." The other part roared "A nice young stud, bet he's got a big honky cock, would love to jump your bones. Mmmmmm." She felt a pulse in her cunt.

Billy opened his eyes and stared at her. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but she didn't back away. Her eyes had popped open when he breathed her smell, and he wasn't sure what he should do. It seemed like an opportunity he'd been waiting for all these years. A step toward intimacy, a chance to let her know how much he loved her. He remembered the four by five card with his favorite poem about her he'd been carrying each morning for weeks, sitting in his back pocket. He reached back and whipped it out, slipping it into the paper. "I..I wrote that for you, Maggie" he whispered.

She looked down, pulled it out, and read it quickly. Then she covered her mouth with the back of her hand, still holding the poem, and he thought he saw a little tear in her eye. "Jesus, Billy. I mean.." She kept staring at him, her hand still at her mouth, breathing hard, it seemed to him. She took a step backward and walked toward her front door, slowly. His heart sank. Don't go, Maggie. Don't go.

She stopped ten feet away, head down. Then he heard her whisper "Why don't you come to the back door when you're finished your route, Bill. I'll give you some coffee." She glanced at him over her shoulder, shyly he thought, and headed down the walk. His face was flushed as he watched her wobble so enticingly, her long legs so fit, the black skin so shiny in the morning's soft light. He covered his nose with his hand, and realized his cock was standing straight out.

"If only I could feel thy hand, the firm black texture of it warm.

If only I could breathe thy presence, inhale it deeply,

Into my soul, and nourish it there.

If only I could heal thee, make thee cry for me.

Only then, having known heaven, could I die."

Maggie leaned back against the door, her eyes closed, breathing hard. Christ, kid's got it bad. Never thought, jesus, writing poetry for me. My fault, my fault, teasing him. But why did I invite him back? She felt the flush in her groin, the heat in her nipples, and knew. She was a horny black bitch. She wanted to get laid, and a strong young stud like Bill would be terrific. Oh shit, she thought. What the fuck are you doing, Margaret?

Her mind in a turmoil, she trotted to the back door, looking out as she unlocked it. Eddie had built the arbor leading all the way back to the woods behind, vining roses on both sides, making a walkway. He had loved to drag her out there on warm summer's nights, and they would scream out their passion under the stars. One of their neighbor's had once alluded to the noise, but with a smile on his face. She had never told Eddie, who thought the thick bushes muffled the sounds. She felt the tingling in her pussy again. Bill could sneak in from the woods.

Without thinking, she raced into the bathroom, and jumped under the shower. The diaphragm. Where's the fucking diaphragm? She toweled off quickly, and ripped open the vanity's drawer. There, back in the back. She squirted the salve in the rubber cup, then pushed it up inside her. Eddie had turned out to have gotten sterile in 'Nam, the bastard, though she couldn't blame him for refusing to go two years without a piece of ass. She'd needed the birth control for her little escapades from time to time. God, she thought, the thing is ten years old. Well, fuck it.

She pulled on the lacy black bra, the matching thong panties, and her white opaque dressing gown. The black underwear on her dark skin would be almost invisible through the soft, nearly transparent material. What the fuck am I doing? She raced over to the kitchen.

He was standing there, framed in the screen door, shifting from side to side. When he saw her come hurrying toward him, his eyes widened, he got alert, and she grabbed open the door, pulling him in, mumbling "Shit, kid, somebody could see you. Did you come in from the woods? Think anybody saw you?"

He stumbled as he slid over against the counter, while she stared at him, breathing hard. He started whispering "God Maggie, do you know how long, uh, how much, uh, geez...." She threw herself at him.

He couldn't remember, later, how they got there. Everything was a feverish blur, her smell different, kind of peach soap. Her hips humping against his. Those big soft pillows against his chest. Stumbling and tripping into the bedroom, ripping off their clothes, his first sight of the black tits he had dreamed of so often, jiggling and swaying as she bent over pushing down her panties. That incredibly thick pussy hair, black and shiny at the bottom where her slit was, though he couldn't see it. Her eyes brightening when she saw his pinus, cooing "Mmm, big honky cock. Bring that baby over to Mama, honey."

The taste of her pussy as he felt her mouth swallow his prick down to it's root, her creaming, wet twat tasting dark, almost sweet, with that hint of her sweat. The vague sense of urgency in his mind to eat her pussy better than he had ever eaten one before, licking wildly, searching for a bump, then finding a thick stub that made her jump and moan when he sucked on it. Hearing her almost scream after a few minutes, and her hips jolting against his mouth frantically. Then her soft "Oooh, baby, baby." as she seemed to relax. Feeling her pulling at him, making him twist around so they lay together, kissing, her tongue lighting fires in his groin. His memories got clearer as she pulled him on top of her, and he felt her raspy hand grip his throbbing tool, and sink it into her, grabbing his ass and pulling him all the way in.

No complaining, no flinching as he sunk to her depths, her wet mouth sucking on his. "Easy, baby, easy" as he started to fuck. Her mouth's taste, like her smell, like her cunt, earthy, sweet, a dark taste, so unlike Kelly and all of them. She seemed to move with him as he felt swallowed by her smooth skin and her full body, her legs pulling, time standing still. Marveling that he didn't pop, with the thrills so far above any other fuck he'd ever had. Starting to go harder as she became frantic, then feeling spasming in her cunt, then humping even harder back at him, then his nut exploding, arching wildly, heart seeming to thump like a drum. Watching her grimacing, smiling face as she worked her hips, feeling the top of her slit against his boner. Collapsing on top of her, hearing her whispering "Baby, baby, baby" as she smoothed his hair.

He was gasping harder than she was, as he became aware his weight was totally on her body, and slipped off to the side, still kissing her cheeks, her ear, smelling her hair, so different, but still somehow familiar from all the years of yearning for her. He remembered clearly leaning down and sucking on one of those big nipples, feeling it harden, feeling the flesh heave around his mouth. He sensed their legs intertwined as they lay on their sides, a thigh undulating gently against his soft, wet tool. He murmured again and again to her "Maggie, Maggie, I love you."

He remembered hardening again as she stroked him, hearing her cooing softly "Oh Billy, Billy, good, here it comes again, mmmm baby, Mama wants another taste, honey, Mama needs her baby." Entering her gently, still on their sides, losing himself, until, much later it seemed, he vaulted on top of her, groaning and climbing, and filled her body with his cum again. He had a vague idea she had gotten off a couple of times, but wasn't ever sure.

Her helping him dress, smiling, kissing him, sometimes softly, sometimes with wide open mouth, noisy and sucking. Telling him to come back when he could, through the woods, "Be careful, honey, so no one sees you." Staggering down the green vined walk into the darkness of the forest, tripping over a vine, hearing her call quietly "You okay, Bill?" Nodding, brushing himself off, and heading for home. Halfway there, stopping, wanting to go back and ask her if he had been a good lover. Wanting to tell her he loved her again.

Jenny heard Billy come in from his paper route, late, and then the shower running. That was strange, she thought, he usually just went to the bathroom, then straight to the kitchen to eat. As she heard him go past her door, she peeked out to watch his back going down the stairs, and snuck into his room. Clothes were strewn wildly around, she found his jockeys, and smelled the crotch. Jesus Christ, she thought. It's her smell. Maggie. Oh my god.

To Be Continued...