DECEMBER: EXCERPT OF THE MONTH (adults only)
by Ruth D. Kerce
Chaz set his empty coffee cup on the desk. He walked over to the cushy chair positioned in the corner of his home office, where most days he would sit and look out the long window on the opposite wall and lose himself in his thoughts.
Today, something other than the outdoor view of his ranch held his attention. He sat down and flipped through the photos on his cell phone, looking for good ones of his little, chestnut-colored mare. He’d found an interested buyer who wanted to see more pictures of her before placing a bid. As he searched, an old image of Cherry suddenly popped up on the screen. He was waiting to hear from her on another horse deal.
He’d known Cherry most of his life. Her parents had been good friends with his and were constant fixtures here at the ranch in their younger days. He stared at the photo, thinking back to the summer when he’d taken it. She’d been a real beauty back then. She still was actually. Her long blonde hair, rosy cheeks, piercing green eyes, the reddest of lips, and a smile that never stopped had made her one of the popular girls. They used to call her Cheery Cherry in high school -- CC for short -- and the name fit.
At one time, they’d taken a shot at a relationship. It hadn’t lasted long, much to his disappointment. Though they’d parted by mutual agreement and on good terms, he’d regretted that decision over the years. He missed having her around. He missed her quirkiness and the way she could always make him laugh. He missed a lot of things about her.
Now she was back in town, temporarily for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, and while she waited on a new job offer to come through. Thanksgiving had come and gone way too quickly, and Christmas was just around the corner. She wouldn’t be here for much longer.
He shifted uncomfortably as more intimate memories flooded through him. Though she used to irritate the hell out of him at times, she was also the most enticing woman he’d ever known. The first time they’d made love had been a fantasy come true for him and was seared into his brain forever. They’d gone on a picnic dinner with a group of friends. After they’d eaten, everyone else left to watch the fireworks the county was shooting off in celebration of a wine festival being held in the area. Cherry had wanted to stay and star gaze, so he’d stayed with her.
They were lying on a blanket looking up through the trees when she’d asked him if he thought she was pretty. He chuckled as he remembered his quick reply. “Hell, yeah.” Then they’d looked at each other, and that had been it.
She’d climbed on top of him and started kissing and nuzzling his neck. Even just the memory of that night made his dick grow hard. She’d squirmed on top of his groin until he’d thought he would go crazy. Then with a casual tone, as if it were a common thing, she’d asked, “Can I suck your cock?”
All he’d been able to do was nod like an idiot. She’d lifted off him and torn open his shorts like a woman possessed. Even in the dimming light from the campfire that he’d started earlier in the evening, he’d been able to see her red, red lips moving up and down his shaft. She’d licked and sucked him until he’d been practically mad with the need to come. “I’m going to lose it,” he’d warned her, barely getting out the words.
That had stopped her. “Not yet,” she’d said. She’d reached under her short skirt and pulled off her underwear, then sat back, spread her legs, and lifted the flimsy garment. “Do me.”
He’d scrambled to his knees and dove between her legs like some boy after his first taste. She definitely hadn’t been his first, but she’d certainly been his best. He’d eagerly licked her pussy, flicking her clit, pushing his tongue inside her. Over and over, he’d tongue fucked her until her body began to tremble. He’d been determined not to stop short as she had. He’d wanted her to come, while he’d had the chance at her, in case it was only a one time thing.
And she had come. Hard. He could almost still taste her if he concentrated on the memory enough.
She’d grabbed his head, and her fingers had clutched his scalp, as she’d screamed out his name. She’d jerked up her hips, pressing her pussy more snuggly against his mouth and pleaded, “Don’t stop!”
What a fucking great time he’d had. He’d actually made her come three times that night with his tongue. While she had lain there recovering, he’d dug into his wallet for a condom. His dick had grown hard as a rock, and he’d needed to come so badly by that time that he’d actually hurt. When he’d turned back toward her, Cherry had flashed her signature smile at him.
That’s when she’d bent her knees and said, “Saddle up, cowboy.”
Man, that had been an unforgettable ride. No woman had ever satisfied him so much or made him crave more like she had. Over the years, he’d often replayed the events of that time and a few others in his head. The memories kept him company on lonely nights and fueled his fantasies whenever he took his own hand to himself.
A clang made him jump. The chimes on the grandfather clock by the door brought him back to reality sooner than he would have liked. He glanced at the time. “Shit.” She’d be here soon. He changed his position in the chair. His jeans felt tight from his semi-erection. He needed to jerk off before Cherry arrived, otherwise he’d probably try to fuck her where she stood.
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-- December Direct Answers
from Wayne and Tamara
Direct Answers appears in newspapers on six continents.
-- Direct Answers by Wayne and Tamara
"I have been married 22 years to a kind and thoughtful man. We have two children, a son and a daughter. My daughter now is in college and my son a senior in high school. Thankfully my husband still has a job, and we live fairly well.
My problem lies in my upbringing and birth family. My mother was a very cruel person. There were three siblings in the house: my older brother, my sister and me. My parents divorced when I was eight.
We struggled financially and had to put up with my mother's violent mood swings. It was hellish at best. Sadly none of the siblings bonded and to best describe the situation, it was the classic dysfunctional family.
My sister was the middle child and the "hero child." She is now 56 and waits on my mother hand and foot. Her entire life centers on mother. Thankfully, they live hundreds of miles away. My mother is 91, and we have travelled down there on many occasions to see them for the holidays.
They have never been up to see us, and my sister has never once spent time with her niece and nephew. She only dotes on mother. Every year my sister tells me this is "mother's last Christmas," and we need to go down and see her once again. This has been going on over 10 years.
I would like to move on with my life. I've sent countless gift packages, floral arrangements, gift cards, you name it. In my own way, I too dote on "mother." Do you have any advice for me?"
Wayne & Tamara's Answer:
"Heidi, you are looking at your family with two different lenses, one on each eye. The first lens is the Hallmark greeting card lens, and the second is the lens of reality. Continuing to do this can only make you cross-eyed.
You act as if you failed to provide your children with a grandmother and an aunt, when you should be pleased they are not in contact with the kids. Reframe this. We would call it a silver lining that these two never had a chance to influence your children.
It is natural for people to want their kids to have relatives who love and support them, but you can't give your children what you never had. You are still grieving over the lack of a close family, like an only child wishing for siblings.
Your sister is a martyr and to be a martyr she needs to continue to be a victim. Let her, but don't join her. She is not a hero. She is attached to her abuser. She is a victim, and you fortunately are not. Stop the visits and inform your sister, "This year we won't be coming."
This year, look at your cruel mother and sister through the lens of reality. This year, give yourself the gift of letting it all go."
Authors and columnists Wayne and Tamara Mitchell can be reached
Send letters to: Direct Answers, PO Box 964, Springfield, MO 65801
or email: DirectAnswers@WayneAndTamara.com
Read an interview with Wayne and Tamara at: http://datingthread.com/wayne-and-tamara