Keeping Victoria's Secret (15 page)

When he’d finished planting, he returned the
tractor and his equipment to the barn, and noticed Victoria was
leaving. Her car was turning onto the road, heading towards
town.

I’ll take care of those beds while she’s
gone. Finding the garden tiller in the barn, he topped off the gas
tank. It took a little tinkering, but the motor finally roared to
life. Behind the house, the ancient flowerbeds were a riot of
overgrown weeds. He stood appraising the situation for a long
moment, then went back to the barn. This time he came back with a
weed eater and attacked the jungle of undergrowth behind the house
and along the drive. When he was finished, he raked the waste into
a pile, got a wheelbarrow from the barn, and made several trips to
an area where he dumped compostable refuse.

This is taking a little longer than I
thought. Maybe I’ll put off going to town until tomorrow. Returning
to the beds, he looked over his handiwork. Starting the tiller, he
maneuvered it back and forth until he had the earth turned and
softened to his satisfaction. Finally, he removed the last of the
root clumps and bits of weed until he had the beds ready for
planting. Satisfied with his work, he returned all the tools and
machinery to the barn, taking care to clean everything before
putting things in their proper place.

Climbing the stairs to his apartment, he
stripped off his dirty clothes and took a long hot shower. Well
satisfied with his days work, he made himself a sandwich and opened
a beer. A quick look out the window told him that Victoria hadn’t
yet returned. I hope she’ll be pleased to have the beds all ready
for planting.

Time for a break. Selecting The Complete
Works of Robert Frost from a shelf, he leaned back in his recliner
to read. The windows were open and the evening breeze carried in
the scent of newly turned earth. Something indefinable in the
springtime air made a person mindful of fertility and mortality.
“Thoughts too lofty for a humble tiller of the soil.” What would
Vince or John think if they knew I read poetry in my spare time?”
He opened the book to a springtime favorite.

Putting in the Seed

You come to fetch me from my work
to-night

When supper's on the table, and we'll see

If I can leave off burying the white

Soft petals fallen from the apple tree

(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren
quite,

Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled
pea);

And go along with you ere you lose sight

Of what you came for and become like me,

Slave to a Springtime passion for the
earth.

How Love burns through the Putting in the
Seed

On through the watching for that early
birth

When, just as the soil tarnishes with
weed,

The sturdy seedling with arched body
comes

Shouldering its way and shedding the earth
crumbs.

by Robert Frost

He spread his arms, stretching tired muscles.
He inhaled the sweet fresh spring air wafting in through the open
windows. Outside an engine climbed the drive and stopped. A moment
later, came the sound of a car door slamming. Craning his neck
around to see through the window, he saw Victoria pause, a brown
paper grocery sack under each arm, on the top step before slowly
entering the porch. She returned walking hesitantly down the steps
and into the yard, as though she were trying to remember something.
Then, as he watched, it struck her. The difference was the tilled
flowerbeds devoid of weeds and waiting for plants and seeds.

He was rewarded with a beaming smile aimed at
his apartment.

The old-fashioned steamer trunk was heavy and
unwieldy. Jack supported its weight from below while Vicky kept it
straight, guiding it from above. Together they lowered it, step-
by-step, from the attic. On the second floor landing, he pushed,
pulled, and nudged it into one of the spare bedrooms.

They’re all spare rooms now, except for that
one in the back where I can’t resist watching Victoria as she pulls
on her panties and…. I’m so bad. If she found out, she’d kill me.
I’ve got to make sure she doesn’t.

“I hope this thing isn’t locked,” he said,
kneeling before the trunk.

Victoria went to her knees beside him, and
they both studied the brass catch. Jack fiddled with it, and the
hasp lifted with a faint metallic squeak. He carefully lifted the
lid and they both leaned in to peer inside.

“Oh Jack, look at this.” Vicky removed a
framed photograph laid on top of the rest of the trunks contents.
It was a picture of a bride and groom.

“It’s my grandmother; it’s Nanna!”

“Yeah, and that’s Uncle Charley. Not a bad
looking dude back then. When did Fred say they were married, 1946
or 47?”

“Yes, I think so,” Victoria said softly,
laying the picture aside reverently.

They both reached into the trunk and his
rough work callused hand brushed slowly along her arm. Suddenly
aware of the current of electricity running from one to the other,
neither moved for a long quiet moment.

Slowly he ran his hand up her arm, gently
caressing as he went. Victoria didn’t move. He looked at her,
willing her to meet his eyes. Answering his silent plea, she turned
and they held one another’s gaze.

“Jack?” came the timid question.

“Yes, Victoria,” he replied firmly.

He rose, pulling her after him. They stood
face to face for an instant before his lips touched hers. Gentle at
first, he gradually became more persistent parting her lips with
his. He probed with his tongue and heard the sharp intake of her
breath. Victoria’s arms were around him, hands clasped at the small
of his back, her breasts crushed against his muscled chest. He held
the back of her head in both his hands, stroking her hair.

“Jack?” Came her question again.

This time for an answer, he guided her back,
and lifted her onto the bed where she’d lain that first day. Her
head on the pillow, she stared wide eyed at him. “Jack, I don’t
know… I mean, I’ve never….”

“It’s all right Victoria. Do you want me as
much as I want you?”

She nodded, “Yes, I think I do.”

This morning she wore a man’s blue work shirt
and jeans. As she watched, he worked the buttons, his hand moving
lower with each one, revealing her smooth skin. When he freed her
of the shirt, he saw the little peach colored push up bra, the
rounds of her full breasts spilling out. Will the panties be a
match? They were.

He’d told himself for days that making love
to Victoria wouldn’t be a good idea, but now that she was trembling
with desire in his arms, there was no turning back. He couldn’t
recall ever wanting a woman as much as he did now. He kissed her
deeply again, then his lips moved to the flesh he’d exposed. Like a
man possessed, his kisses returned to her lips, then moved over her
throat, to the tops of her breasts and lower.

Everything seemed to be moving so fast, while
their individual actions, the soft caresses, felt as though they
were happening in slow motion.

He stripped her jeans down her legs and
returned to her thighs kissing and caressing. She lay there wearing
only bra and panties, arms folded protectively under her breasts.
She was visibly trembling.

“It’s all right Victoria,” he said. He moved
up to kiss those full lips again and his arms slipped around her,
unhooking her bra. “You are so beautiful.”

Arms still folded across her torso, she
stared at him, and her pouting lips parted slightly, asking to be
kissed again.

Jack leaned in and gently brushed her lips
with his. “Victoria, take off your bra,” he whispered.

The lust she saw in Jack’s eyes gave her the
courage to reveal herself to him. Slowly, she pulled the straps
from her shoulders. She looked down at her nipples, stiff and
erect.

Jack began to kiss and suckle her breasts as
they filled his hands. There came a sharp intake of breath, as he
worked his magic. She leaned back resting on her elbows, with eyes
closed.

Knowing instinctively what he wanted, she
thrust out a breast to meet his hungry mouth. As he stroked and
kissed her, she began to writhe with anticipation.

With his free hand, he began removing his own
clothing as quickly as he could.

Her eyes popped open, and she launched
herself forward into his arms. She was kissing him with a passion
neither of them had expected. Together they peeled off the rest of
Jack’s clothes until they lay naked in each other’s arms. The
little peach panties were all that was between them. Jack continued
exploring her breasts and thighs with his lips and hands, stroking
and tasting.

With one curious small hand she reached down
and took hold of him. “Oh my God, Jack,” she murmured. “I want you
so much. You need to know that I’ve never, oh God. I’ve never done
this before.” Fascinated, her warm hand moved up and over, holding
him, making him mad with desire.

“Oh Victoria, my love.”

"Oh, God please love me Jack," she murmured.
"Let's do this please." Her head dropped back onto the pillow.
Shivering, she wriggled under his touch, as he lightly ran his
fingers down over her stomach and onto the silky peach material. He
tickled and toyed with the creamy softness at the top of her
thighs.

“Jack, please, please! I want you to make
love to me. I want you inside me. Please!”

“Victoria,” Jack leaned over her, panting.
“If you’re really sure, take your panties off for me. I want to
watch you.”

She slipped off the bed as Jack stared.
Looking over her shoulder at him, she took hold of the fabric with
both hands and bent over, sliding the panties down in one fluid
motion over her bottom, and down her legs, pulling off the last
remaining garment. When she bent over, her legs parted and Jack
began to moan.

She turned to face him asking, “Is this what
you want? I’ll do anything you want. Just please make love to me
now. Jack, I’m so ready. I’ve waited so long….”

“Oh God,” moaned Jack. He grabbed her, rolled
over placing himself between those beautiful legs, and began to
kiss her thighs and beyond. Moving to his knees, he gently opened
her, caressing, feeling her warm wetness.

At the last moment Jack slowed and his
movements became ever so gentle. Then, their whole world was
searing hot and wild motion, faster and faster grinding into one
another, until they both subsided with small purring sounds from
deep within. From the open window, the morning breeze cooled their
skin, as they lay close together, with hearts pounding.

The sun tried to burn through the morning fog
that afforded Gwendolyn a small measure of privacy. At any other
time, she would find the view of the sea, from up here on the
mountain spectacular, but for now, it was obscured by gray cloud
and salty mist.

She splashed happily in a pool that formed in
a hollow where the clear stream was interrupted in its tumbling
course down the hillside. Imprisoned on board the ship, she’d had
only the occasional sponge bath of harsh salt water. It was so long
since she’d had the luxury to bathe, the water felt wonderful,
though the chill made her nipples ache and stiffen. In the pirate’s
booty, she’d discovered some fine lavender soaps that she lathered
her hair and body with freely.

Finally feeling clean, she pulled herself up
onto the mossy bank, water streaming from her pink glowing skin.
Shivering with cold and wet in the cool morning air, she dashed for
her clothes, dressing quickly before the Captain could return and
catch a glimpse of her naked. She struggled into the drab shirt and
trousers in which Captain Jack had her masquerading as one of his
crew.

Captain Jack rose silently like a wraith from
the undergrowth around the pool. Suddenly he was there beside her.
The ferocity of his flashing dark eyes was tempered by the grin
splitting his face. She tried to step back, but he grasped her arm
to draw her close. In that instant, their eyes locked and something
passed between the two that sent shivers of a different nature
coursing through her. Jack’s grip tightened, and then moved upwards
ever so slowly. She was on her feet, but he was much taller. He
gazed down at her before gently lowering his mouth to hers. His
kisses made her knees grow weak as she trembled in his strong arms.
Her head swam. She was instantly alive with both desire and
fear.

Unaware of how it happened, she found herself
sitting on the gentle rise of a grassy dune. Sweet tropical grasses
were fragrant, crushed beneath them. The air was filled with the
scent of damp earth and the sea. As the morning fog came rolling
in, it enveloped them.

Jack’s probing kisses deepened as her lips
parted for him. His arms held her tightly as his hands moved over
her. Helplessly she watched, eyes lowered, as he undid the buttons
of her damp shirt one by one, moving downward until it was gone,
tossed aside, exposing her full breasts. She lay back submissively,
as he stared at her aching nipples. Something strong and vibrant
stirred deep within her. Overwhelmed by the realization that she
wanted him, wanted this to happen, she was filled with horror. It
was as though she didn’t know her own mind.

“
Get to your feet and remove the rest of
your clothing; I want to look at you.” he said.

Rising slowly like a woman in a trance, she
was afraid to disobey him but equally afraid because she knew that
she would willingly obey his every wish.

From "Caribbean Fire", By Tori Baxter

Vicky’s fingers flew over the keys and words
sprang onto the screen before her. She was on a roll. Some days,
the ideas and the words just flowed and writing seemed almost
effortless. As she typed, she hummed along with the music coming
softly from the CD player on top of the bookshelf behind her.
Memories of making love with Jack, and the brilliant sunshine
streaming through her office window, crowded worries of losing the
farm out of her mind entirely.