Reckless: Shades of a Vampire (8 page)

Emma walks back to her bedroom, gets dressed, gets in the family Taurus, rides with her mother to church, comes home, eats buttermilk fried chicken, boiled squash with a hint of onion lathered in butter, black-eyed peas doused with ketchup and buttermilk cornbread for lunch.

Emma does the dishes while her mother and father go down for a nap, then she goes to her room, stretches out on her bed, and wonders if Josh will arrive at the barn in the evening for her the one kiss she has planned.

Emma reaches under her dress and up to the skin of her bare stomach, pulling at it, contemplating the possibility of another stomach tingling affair.

Just one kiss – that’s all.

But wait, no. She thinks she will want him too bad to stop at one kiss. She hasn't done her thing in months, and thinks she should try to take some of the edge off. If she has already fucked herself, perhaps she will not want to fuck Josh. She doesn't want to fuck herself, though. Since Michael, she has wanted a man. Her finger won't quite do.

Emma cans her room. She sees her desk in the corner.

Emma pulls up her dress. She pulls her bra over her breasts and up around her chest. She licks her thumbs, getting them dripping wet, and starts circling them around her nipples. 

"Michael," she whispers. 

Only seconds pass before she is dripping wet with a throbbing button. She gets up from the bed and takes a pillow with her to the desk. Emma wraps the pillow around the corner of the desk and straddles it, so that the pillow-covered corner jabs into her pussy with a softened blow.

"Ahhh," she says, as she begins thrusting against the desk corner. 

"Ah, ah, ah," she says with each thrust.

On the fourth one her abdominal muscles ripples and her groin contracts as she comes all over the pillow.

"Michael," she says.

At the church service that evening, Emma has her hair tucked neatly behind her ears with bobby pens, and a freshly ironed yellow dress on. Emma sees Judith sitting with her daughter two rows behind her to the right. Emma glances back every few minutes to see if Josh is there with her, but he isn’t.

No Josh, just Judith. 

Emma looks away quickly before Judith sees her looking. But within a minute Emma looks back. She and Judith make eye contact once, and Judith smiles, but she is holding Marybelle in her lap and seems unconcerned with the stare as a female soloist belts out verses to a hymn,
How Great Thou Art
.

When her father leads a prayer after the song, Emma stares through the stained glass windows behind him, straining to see hints of a fading light outside. Emma thinks about Michael throughout the service, standing when others stand, and saying “Amen” when others say Amen, but she is wondering if Josh will meet her.

She mouths the words in a low breathy voice to what used to be one of her favorite hymns; 
Jesus is Tenderly Calling You Home.

In the latter part of the service the palms of Emma’s hands are sweating, and her neck is flushed and splotchy. Her mother notices, fanning Emma with an open hymnal.

Emma thinks perhaps it is the temperature in the un-air conditioned sanctuary. The tall A-frame ceiling draws heat to the top of the church and a breeze blows softly through the opened stained glass windows lining the sides, but she is hot, nonetheless.

When her father calls in the last verse of
Just as I Am
for the snakes to be fetched by the deacons, Emma rises with Judith, sitting a few rows back, and others who are not participating in the snake handling service. They turn and walk slowly out the church’s front door as the verses ring out and the deacons are gone, out of sight, to get the snakes.

Out the sanctuary door and holding her daughter’s hand, Judith turns back as she walks down brick pathway leading to the gravel parking lot to tell Emma, who has also left the church, goodnight.

“Hope to see you soon, girl,” Judith says.

Emma smiles with a clinched jaw.

"I hope to tongue your husband soon," she is thinking.

Judith walks with her daughter toward the parking lot. Emma quickens her pace walking away from the church. The air is outside cooler than the church was inside, and the breeze blows the tiny sweat droplets that had beaded on her forehead away. Her heartbeat hastens its pace, and Emma moves away from the church in a fast walk, taking long strides in her white dress and sandals.

Emma wonders if the fact that Josh wasn’t at the church service is a sign that he will surely be at the barn. She wonders if he shows, what the kiss will be like?

Will he use his tongue to touch hers, like Michael? Or, will he kiss with his lips softly, leaving his mouth closed, and her longing for more?

She wonders also if he wasn’t at the church service to send her a sign. Maybe he is not coming to the barn, she thinks.

But Emma keeps moving and reaches the last turn in the road she can see the barn straight ahead. She squints to see if Josh is there, but she does not see him. The sun is setting earlier in the late summer season, and the sky is in a deep dusk as she approaches, meaning she can only see its outline in the fading light.

She stops just outside the barn’s doorway facing the parsonage, and doesn’t see Josh.

Her heart sinks, she feels, to her toes.

Emma whimpers, audibly. Before she takes a step away back home, a voice booms from within the barn.

“Hey,” it says.

“Huh,” Emma responds, with wide eyes.

“Its me. I didn’t know if you was bluffing me or not,” says Josh, in gravelly baritone. “Guess not. Look at you. Look at you. So beautiful.”

“No,” Emma says. “I wasn't bluffing you. I’m here.”

“Yep,” Josh says. “I’m here too.”

"I see."

Emma turns toward his voice, looking inside the barn. She sees Josh’s silhouette leaning against a pillar in the middle. He is illuminated by the faint light of fast-fading dusk seeping in.

“I didn’t know if you were coming or not,” Emma says, with a slight hint of giggle.

She walks toward him, taking soft slow steps across the barn’s dirt floor that mixes with hay.

“I shouldn’t have,” Josh says. “Everybody knows you don’t mess with the preacher’s daughter. Your Daddy might put some kind of spell on me if he finds out.”

“I thought you weren’t afraid,” Emma says.

“I’m not afraid. But everybody knows. You don’t mess with the preacher’s daughter. And you especially don't fuck the preacher's daughter."

“Father doesn’t do spells,” Emma says. “He just prays. And maybe we won't fuck.”

“He might pray against me, then. And what do you mean, 'maybe we won't fuck'? You got me all worked up. My dick has been harder than a two-by-four since Monday.

"Can't do anything about it. It's like a pointer dog -- just looking for you."

Emma doesn’t respond.

“Why did you want me to come?” Josh asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you want me to come here then if you don't want to fuck me?”

“Just to talk,” Emma says. “There’s nothing wrong with that, right? I enjoyed talking with you at the picnic. You talked to me. I talked back. I thought we could talk more here.”

“I didn’t come here to talk,” Josh says.

“No?” says Emma.

“No. You felt me rubbing your leg under the table, didn’t you? I know you did. You rubbed it back. You said you wanted to fuck. I almost lost my shit. I said I wanted to fuck you.

"I thought you wanted me. I wanted you. No, I want you. As in, present tense.”

“I…”

Emma is standing before Josh. He’s dressed in blue jeans and a dark t-shirt, so she can barely see his image in the nightfall. But she can smell his musk, a mix of summer sweat and dust that has fermented throughout the day to an alluring aroma.

Emma's breathing shortens, and her stomach starts contracts with each inhalation as she looks at Josh. She feels sweat beading just above her buttocks, in the small of her back. Her panties are dampening and her nipples are erect.

“I want to talk,” Emma says. “That’s all. I don’t do anything else.”

“You’ve never been with a man? Preacher’s daughter is a virgin?”

“No,” she says. “I mean yes.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Emma. You never been with a man?”

“I kissed a boy once,” Emma says. “I kissed him, that’s all.

“I know it was wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with kissing, Emma,” Josh says. “Where in the Bible does it say that? God made man. God made woman. He made them fit together, like this (fitting his hands together). And it feels good. You should try it.

“What does your Daddy say about that?”

“Plenty,” Emma says. “He says it is wrong if you are not married. He says it is wrong to want it.”

“You don’t have to be married to kiss,” Josh says.

“No. The Bible doesn’t say kissing is wrong,” Emma says. “Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless there’s lust,” Emma says. “It is wrong to lust.”

“Well,” Josh says. “Shit. That’s all I got to say. Shit. A lot of people done wrong then. I guess everybody lusts Emma.”

“But it’s wrong,” Emma says. “My father says it is wrong. The Bible says it is wrong.”

“Well, maybe we should just kiss then. But not lust.”

“That would be okay,” Emma says. "That's just what I was thinking anyway. We'll just kiss."

Josh can see Emma perfectly well in the darkness, as her dress and blonde locks illuminate in the moonlight seeping in the door and filling in behind her. The eyelets of lace around her neck and arms glow, and he glances at her summer-toned legs. They shine slightly like the structure beneath a lighthouse beacon.

“I’ll kiss you,” Josh says. “But I’m gonna want more. I’m just saying.”

Josh is more than half a foot taller than Emma. He leans his head down toward hers. He twists his head sideways. He looks at the nape of her neck, brushing it softly with his right hand.

She closes her eyes and exhales.

Josh runs his fingers from her neck to and through the strands of her hair. She feels his breath warming her neck. Her torso warms along with it.

Josh clutches his left hand tightly against her lower back, pulling her toward him. She makes a faint grunting noise, and opens her lips slightly. She licks them, her lips, as she did in practice in front of the mirror.

Josh pushes his tongue into her mouth in a straight rigid line, and curls the tip up, licking the top underside of her gums.

“Mmmm,” she murmurs.

Emma opens her mouth wider, rubbing her tongue vigorously against the tip of Josh’s tongue. She licks his teeth, his tongue, and the roof of his mouth, pushing her opened mouth harder and further into his. She wraps her hands and arms around Josh’s waist, drawing him against her body. She feels him firmly against her stomach, and she applies her weight to his while slowly lowering herself to the ground, and pulling him slowly along.

Emma unbuckles her knees and hastens the drop to the barn floor, tugging Josh down as she sashays to the ground, their mouths and tongues interlocked in wet embrace. Josh thrusts his pelvis into her groin. She rubs her hair, freeing the left side from the bobby pin. It flitters into the hay as do they.

“Ahhhhhhh,” Emma moans.

Josh pushes into her again again, harder.

“Ahhhhhhh,” Emma moans.

Emma curls her feet around Josh’s legs, pulling him in tighter to her groin. She reaches to the bottom of her dress, pulling it up to her navel. She feels Josh’s jeans against her skin, and against her lace panties.

He moves his body into her hers, pushing, harder and faster. Emma feels blood racing through her body, to her breasts and to her groin. Her mind jingles, and floats.

Josh pulls up her dress to over her shoulders, exposing her bra. 

"Look at you," Josh says, gazing.

Emma blushes.

Josh pulls down her bra cups so that her nipples pop out, pushed upward by the material gathered beneath them. He darts his mouth to her left nipple, circling in saliva with his tongue.

"Ahhh," Emma moans. 

Josh darts his tongue to her right nipple, doing the same thing.

She leans back.

"Kiss me," Emma says. 

Josh moves toward her mouth.

"No," Emma grunts, parting her legs. "Kiss my pussy. Kiss me there."

She falls back into the hay, and buckles her knees.

Josh falls to his elbows, and moves his face to within inches of her lace-covered crotch.

"Dear God," he says. "You are one beautiful angel."

Josh tugs the crotch of Emma's panties to the side and lashes his tongue from the bottom of her cunt to the top.

She cries out.

"Ooohhh," she says.

Josh is swirling his tongue in circles over her button and darting it into her hole like a velvet dagger. 

She is clutching hay in her left hand and her right hand is over her left breast, squeezing it.

"I'm going to come on your face, Josh," Emma says. "Josh...I...I'm...going to come, on your...face."

"Preacher's daughter," Josh says, muffled between licks, "is going to come on my face."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh," Emma screams, as her torso contorts and she squeezes her breast harder. "Ahhhhhhh. Ahhhhhh. Yes. Ahhhhh."

Juice flows into Josh's face from Emma's pussy as her muscles contract and gush it out. Josh laps it up slowly, with his tongue.

Emma relaxes on the barn floor. Josh collapses his arms and falls into the hay.

"That was some kind of kiss," he said. "That was some kind of trick."

"It wasn't a trick Josh," Emma says, hazily.

Minutes pass. How many, she's not sure. But Emma sits up. Josh is leaning against the barn wall and looking at her. He is smiling.