Moon Dancer

Moon Dancer, 2

Ya'know how sometimes you can't sleep because your brain just jumps from thought to thought? Well I didn't sleep well Saturday night. After dinner I'd poured myself a little Scotch and dialed up an old Western. One of Wayne's classics. Didn't help. I kept thinking of Marge. Yeah, her legs and belly, and her hair. But mostly her eyes; hazel with flecks of gold. And that little smile.

Or was I just imagining. Just being a lusty old man that hadn't touched another woman since his wife died? And was she just being friendly so I'd take her and the kid sailing? Am I betraying Sue? All night. Back and forth.

I'm sure I got some sleep, but Sunday I wasn't worth shit. Just puttered around. Went into the garage and waxed the Jag. Finished that and went into the house and put the ball game on.

About three the phone rang. Without thinking I picked up. "Yeah?'

"Mitchell Randall?"

"I'm not buying, I'm not selling."

"No, no. I'm Jim Hatcher, you took my son sailing yesterday."

"Yeah so? And how did you get this number?"

"Margaret gave it to me. Listen, Mike told me you went sailing and saw whales. Is that right?"

"So?"

"Well I'd like to see your boat?"

"Why?"

"You had my son out there and I don't know you or how safe you are."

Aw shit. One of those. Enough of this bullshit. "No. You may not see my boat."

"I didn't okay that. And what are you doing with Margaret?"

"I'll say this

One Time

. He was with his mother. I understand you're divorced. Her business is hers." And I hung up. He tried calling again. I blocked him.

Then Marge called. "Did he call you?"

"Yeah. I didn't appreciate him having my number."

"I'm sorry. He has a way of hounding me until I give him what he wants. It's one of the reasons we split up. If it weren't for sharing time with Michael I'd have nothing to do with him. I'm really sorry. What did you say to him, he was really angry?"

"He wanted to look me and the boat over. Wanted to approve me and you. I told him no. Came close to telling him to pound sand."

She sighed and the line was quiet for a bit. I could hear her breathing. It sounded a bit ragged. "What does this do to us?"

"To us?"

"Are you going to want anything to do with a woman and her ass hole ex-husband?"

"I thought about you last night. All night. Didn't get much sleep. I don't know. I'm pretty rummy right now and he didn't help my mood. Let me grab a couple hours sleep. I'll see how I'm doing then. I'll call about seven."

~~~

She picked up on the second ring. "Are we okay?" There was real tension in her voice. When I said yes I heard her let out her breath. She was holding her breath? Shit, she was more serious than I thought. Or my imagination was going crazy.

"Do you still want to come down Friday night? Maybe watch a movie and share pizza?"

"Mitch... did you really think about me all night? Yes, I'd like that. Then out on the boat Saturday?"

~~~

Friday. Damn. I was nervous all damn day. Luckily I had a busy work day. But after work, at home, I couldn't think straight. Paced. She had called to say she might be a bit late as she was trying to wrap up an important job. I did remember to ask pizza and movie preferences.

"Something spicy, the more on it the better. And I really don't like those ultra thin crusts. Movies... This may sound strange, but I've never seen Casablanca."

The pizza was easy, Casablanca took a bunch of hunting and then I found it on Amazon Prime.

~~~

She arrived a little after eight, apologizing like crazy. Looking like a million bucks. My brain is going "Mitchell me boy, you are fucked. She. has. you." I didn't argue with myself. Truth is truth.

From top to bottom; honey blonde hair swirling around her face and down to her shoulders. Just a light touch of makeup to highlight her eyes. Light red lip stick. A light yellow sun dress with thin shoulder straps and low cut to show the swell of her breasts - which didn't seem to be encased in a bra. The dress hem only came mid thigh, showing lightly tanned legs. Toe nails painted to match her lips and fingers. Strapped sandals. Yeah I looked. I'd be a fool if I didn't. "Wow. You are as beautiful as I remembered."

"Why thank you sir. I like the shorts and Hawaiian shirt, they suit you. Can I come in? Or are we setting up on the porch?"

I muttered a quick apology and then said it was all her fault for looking so good. That earned a slap on the arm, and a smile. "Oh, I almost forgot, I brought a wine to go with the pizza. You do drink wine, don't you?"

I popped the pizza in the oven - hey, I didn't know what time so went the safe route with a take and bake - and took her on a tour of the house. Three bedrooms, two bath. Nothing special, mid 50s ranch style. The back one my office. I told Marge to put her stuff in the right hand bedroom. "Where's yours?"

"Across the hall."

The kitchen had been through one total remodel and a couple appliance replacements over the years. The rest of the house still as it was built. Except for layers of paint. The living room doubles as the den and on the walls are several pictures of Sue, one standing at the helm with feet braced that I shot from the cabin hatch. Another of her laying on a cockpit cushion. But the one Marge really studied was a close up of Sues face; her dark hair blowing in the wind, a smile on her lips and her brown eyes squinting just a bit against the unseen glare. "She was beautiful wasn't she?'

"Yes." I choked just a little. Marge seem to notice. "Do you still miss her?"

"I can go days, sometimes weeks and be okay. And then some little something connects and I tear up. Have you ever seen the Costner movie 'Open Range'? With Annette Benning? Costner rides off. He's all banged up from shoot out with the bad guys. She's working in her garden when she hears a horse snort. She pauses and then looks around. Costner limps around the house corner. She looks at him and he says "I love you Sue. I have since I first saw you...", every time I see that scene I tear up. Can't help it."

~~~

I'm not a wine connoisseur (yes, I looked up the spelling) so Chianti with pizza sounded right.

In the living room we sat on the floor with the coffee table before us. Marge wolfed down a couple pieces. "Sorry, I missed lunch today to make deadline. I'm starved."

After a bit we slithered up on the couch, Marge curled against me as we sipped wine and watched the movie. Yes, I had an arm around her, and yes I was cupping a breast. When Ilsa boarded the plane Marge shifted a bit and stretched up toward me. I bent down and kissed her. It felt so right that I went back for more.

Eventually she stood, and with a little shimmy dropped her dress. I was right - bra less. No panties either. This woman came knowing what she wanted. "Mitch... you aren't going to make me sleep in that other room, are you?"

"Yes. But I'll be with you."

"Not in your's?"

I just shook my head. It didn't feel right.

"Okay, but you are over dressed."

I dropped trou that fast and my shirt went somewhere on the other side of the room. "How about now?" I sat back on the couch and pulled her to me. She smelled wonderful; the spicy aroma of her soap, something a little flowery (perfume?), and then the truly wonderful scent of a woman - warm and slightly animalistic with an overlay of lust. I inhaled deeply and then leaned forward to kiss her belly.

She giggled, but pulled my face in against her. My hands circled to her now firmer ass and dug in. When I pulled back for air she pushed me back and climbed on my lap.

"Before anything else, we are going to get a couple things clear." She said, a very stern look on her face. "First. I

Choose

to make love with you. It will not be fucking, it will be love making. Second. You are free to decide how you will accept me. I cannot force anything, and I won't try. Third. You said last Sunday you couldn't sleep thinking of me. Well I didn't get much sleep either." then she leaned forward and kissed me deeply.

I pushed her back just enough to look into her eyes. "First.

IF

we have sex I will be making love to you. Second. I have decided. Third..." I lifted her enough for my cock to slip into her moist pussy. "Any questions?"

"Damn Mitchell, you do have a way with words."

It wasn't pounding sex, far from it; Marge rode my cock slowly, as if familiarizing herself with it. Her eyes half closed, her breath shallow. She leaned down again, placing a long and soft kiss on my lips. "Can we take this to the bedroom?"

Of course I nodded, and as she rose I took her hand a led her down the hall. With just a small lamp on I pulled the covers back to show one red rose on the pillow.

She turned, tears in her eyes. "You. You really wanted this?" And then she draped herself over my shoulders, crying. I've been on the receiving end of a few happy cries over my years so I just held her. Yes we were still naked, and yes I was fully aware of it.

She straightened up and punched me on the chest "Damn You." I put on my most innocent face. "What?"

"You know what. You knew this would make me cry. You knew this would make me so happy."

After another minute she leaned back. "When?"

"I knew Sunday evening. Just listening to the tension in your voice when I called, I knew."

"But you didn't say anything..."

"I knew about me, and like you said; you

chose.

I had to wait."

We tumbled onto the bed. I don't know where the rose went. She was kissing all over my face; eyes, lips, cheeks, anywhere and everywhere. I kissed back, just as good as I got. At one point I lifted her so I could nip and suck on her tits and nipples. She moaned. So I did it more as she rubbed her pussy against my cock.

It didn't take long for me to lift her again. This time so she could slip my cock in. That's when she began riding me in earnest. Not frantic, but with a steady and determined pace. Me, I'm caressing her tits, grabbing her ass, rubbing my hands up her sides.

Suddenly she stopped with a shudder, dropped her head so her face was hidden by her hair - that honey blonde hair - and came with a long deep moan. Her vagina clasping and releasing countless times. Her fingers dug into my chest. Painful.

And I came with her. Not from her grabbing my chest, I didn't notice that until a little later. But I came with her, a combination of her clasping my cock and the sight of her in her own orgasm.

She collapsed onto my chest and I held her there, lightly caressing her back while kissing her cheek. I think we drifted off for a bit.

~~~

The next morning, Saturday, I woke to her stroking my cock while kissing me lightly. Always being quick on the uptake, I rolled her over and kissed back. Then I worked my way down, kissing throat, then breasts, then belly, until I arrived at my goal.

Fingers delved into her. My tongue went straight to her clit. I sucked and hummed and fingered and did it all over and over. She was flowing and I'm sure my face was covered. She came, arching up, yelling and crying.

When she dropped down I slithered up, laying kisses along her belly and breasts until I returned to her lips. As we kissed my cock slid into her. Just as if it belonged there.

Now it really was love making. Slowly, ever so slowly, I stroked in and out, all the while looking into her eyes. She pulled me down. "Mitchell Randall, would you be offended if I said I love you?"

"No. You can say it all you want. I'll say it back." All while I'm stroking her slowly. And then I came. A deep, from my roots feeling of completeness. She held me to her, cooing she loved me.

~~~

We were making breakfast, me in shorts and Madge in panties. "God I feel free. I never can go around like this. Look at my nipples! They are so hard right now."

I stepped over and sucked them for a few minutes. "Does that make them any softer?"

"No, but you can do it again anyway." So of course I did.

"Mitch, if you don't mind... I'm enjoying this. I don't want to get dressed. I'm wanting us to just relax together. Make love. Watch TV. Do nothing. Just be."

"What ever makes you happy."

"Would you be upset if I didn't want to go to the boat, just stay here, lay around, make love, do nothing, stay naked, make love..."

"You said that twice."

"Yeaaah, if I said it three times, do you think we could?" With just the sweetest smile. So I laid her on the table, peeled her panties off, and lapped at her pussy. She might have said something, but with her thighs clamped against my ears I heard nothing. Not that I would have stopped.

Only after she had bounced her ass off the table a few times and her legs dropped away did I stop. With her juices smeared all over my face, I moved up to kiss her other lips. "You were asking?"

~~~

Saturday night we took a blanket and wine to the back yard. We drank and made love under the stars and then danced in the moonlight like pagans celebrating.

~~~

Madge went home Sunday afternoon looking a little ragged, but happy. "I'm going to miss this for the next two weeks."

"I'll miss you too. Next weekend is The Fourth, do you think Mike would like to go out to see the fireworks?"

~~~

I've been on the water for the Fourth of July. The area directly under the explosions is crazy; drunken assholes blasting all over among the other boats, others watching overhead rather than right in front of them, driving into each other. Then there is the wildly stirred waves, and usually an incoming tide. Mad house.

"You and your mom will enjoy the show, we'll be away a bit from the worst of the traffic. But I'll be watching the boats around us."

We didn't leave the marina until late afternoon, I wasn't in a hurry, after all I wasn't trying to nab a parking spot or a chunk of grass to sit on. We had dinner while drifting off Brown's Point, the only disturbance a freighter coming down the Sound. I just throttled up and rode into the bow wave off the ship. That was the first time for Madge and Mike and they were surprised how much up and down we had for those few minutes.

Fireworks weren't until ten, so eightish I made a slow course towards the main fireworks area. Hell, we could have stayed where we were and had a perfectly fine view, but I knew this would be their only time for this so I put us as close as I felt comfortable.

Yup, there were several boats - five or six that I knew of for sure - already racing among the other boats. And getting cussed at in the process. Ass holes just laughed it off. I had my own solution, a rubber bullet gun. Perfectly legal, but from more than ten yards could be easily mistaken for something lethal.

Anyway, when the first idiot got too close I gave him a blast on my horn. He started to laugh until I held up the rifle. Didn't come near us again all night. I had to do that twice more. We were fine after that.

Hey, you have your fun, I'll get mine where I can.

Mike and Madge had a ball, I relaxed with coffee in hand, just keeping us in place against the tide, sneaking pictures of them. I got a couple beauties of them looking up at a shower of sparks.

~~~

Mike fell asleep on the way back to the marina. Madge tucked him in and joined me at the wheel. "My god, I've never been bounced around like that. All those boats racing by... Why?"

"First back at the launch is first out of the water, the later you get there the longer you wait. It'll be after one in the morning before the slower ones trailer up. The smarter ones brought sleeping bags and will wait 'til morning."

Marge was too tired for love making, truth was me too. But we lay together, the boat in it's slip, listening to the boats bustling about, just kinda whispering to each other until we drifted off.

~~~

Wednesday afternoon Marge called. That wasn't unusual we often talked several times in a week. This time it was to say James wanted to talk to her and if she wanted, I could be there. "Something serious?"

"He sounded like it. There was something different in his voice. I'm to meet him at the Denny's here. Can you make it? About four?"

"What about Mike?"

"Since I don't know what this is about, I'll arrange a sitter. If there's a scene I don't want my son seeing it."

James was waiting in a booth towards the back. A man in his forties, going bald and pale, like he never got outside. He stood, offering me a weak hand shake and trying to kiss Madge on the cheek. When she pulled away he sighed and waved us to sit. After the waitress brought coffee, he sighed again. "I've been offered a job in Pittsburgh. I'm going to take it."

"Isn't your family from there?" Madge's tension had eased with the news. "What about Mike? He's going to miss you. When will you tell him?"

"I was kinda hoping..." Madge cut him off with a shake of her head. "I guess I better do it this weekend."

"When are you leaving?"

"August, early August. The job starts September third. I know it's not in the agreement, but can he spend next week with me?"

Madge thought for a moment and then nodded.

James looked over at me. "You haven't said anything. Why?"

"This is between you and her. And Mike. If either of you wanted my input you'd have asked."

He nodded. "You've been good for my son. Mike tells me everything you taught him, stuff I wouldn't be able to. I don't want you taking my place as his father," I shook my head. "But I think you're a good guy. A bit old maybe," With a chuckle, "but you seem to be who my wife, excuse me

Ex-

wife, needs. So, well, that's all." And he got up and left. I heard the choke in his voice.

Madge sat there, stirring her coffee absently. "I really didn't expect that. Any of it."

She shook herself a bit. "And, I have my own news. My rent is going up in October and it'll be more than I can afford so I'll be moving."

Here we go again with I know it before I think it. "Move in with me. You know I have the space."

She grimaced. No really, a grimace. "I have more news. And it doesn't get better. The Agency I work for is shifting to all art work will be Photo Shopped. They won't need me. September will be my last month. At least they're giving me a couple months warning."

"So you'll be a starving artist? I haven't seen any of your art, and I wouldn't have more than small clue what's good and what's not. But if you've been paid to

be

an artist I'll assume you're good. We'll figure something out. You and Mike will have a roof and I'll have your fine body next to me every night."

"No." She shook her head and straightened her back. "No. I won't be anyone's 'kept woman'. I have time, I'll find a place I can afford. No."

Proud. No other word for it. I had to admire that. But... "Look, I'm not some rich guy looking for a side piece. I work. But what I'm offering makes sense both financially for you and emotionally for me."

"... Emotionally?"

"I love you. No doubt about it. If you move to some cheaper place, and it would have to be pretty cheap if you're losing your job, I'd worry about you and Mike all the time. This way I'll know you're under a safe roof. The added bonus will be I can hold you in my arms a lot more."

"Where will he sleep? We're in the one bedroom and that other is your office."

"Now don't you worry your pretty head. I'll solve it."

Fine words. I didn't have a clue. Well, I did, but it was going to be a decision I'd been putting off for a while. It was one thing to keep my bedroom as it was when it was just me in that house. But it was time. Change was coming.

~~~

One day I was going through the CostCo flyer when I see they have a pre-fab studio. I thought it was just a shed at first. I looked them up on line. I quickly called Marge. "How much space do you need for studio? Would something around twelve by twenty feet be enough?"