Gettin' Buck Wild: Sex Chronicles II (9 page)

BOOK: Gettin' Buck Wild: Sex Chronicles II
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The bedroom is dark, and the only light is coming from the electric candles held by the animated miniature black Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus dolls. There is one in each of the bedroom windows, so passersby can see them waving as they drive down the street.

There is a single piece of mistletoe hanging in the center of our headboard, and the bed is covered with the homemade quilt we purchased from the Amish on a recent weekend getaway in Pennsylvania. It is there, on the quilt, we make our own beautiful music together before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

Remember I Love You Always

June 1985

Saying good-bye to him was going to be the hardest thing I ever had to do. To go away for such a long time—fifteen years. But when you break the law, someone has to pay. There is a consequence for every action, and armed robbery carries an extremely heavy consequence.

I had him meet me in our private place—the first place we had ever made love. There was no way the police could know about it. No one knew about it but the two of us. It was a little cabin on the side of the river. The mosquitoes in Alabama are eight inches long in the summer, and they were seriously attacking that night as I waited for him on the front porch.

The cabin had long been abandoned. The man who owned it had died in his sleep more than a decade earlier. He had no next of kin, and since the property was basically worthless, no one had bothered to do anything with it. The world had long since forgotten it even existed. Only Jesse and I visited it from time to time.

I saw some headlights approaching and ducked, just to be on the safe side. I wanted to make sure it was Jesse before I exposed myself. I didn’t recognize the raggedy Oldsmobile that pulled up, so I continued to hide in the shadows. Then I saw Jesse get out of the driver’s side. I could see the worry on his face, even in the darkness.

He cut the lights and called out to me. “Susan, are you there?”

“Yes,” I responded half in a whisper. “I’m over here on the porch.”

Jesse ascended the creaky steps and took me in his arms. “I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?”

“As much as I can be. Tomorrow’s the big day, and I’m not sure I can handle it.”

“I know I can’t handle it,” he said despondently. “Fifteen long-ass years.”

“Seems like forever.”

“And it will feel like forever.”

I stood on my toes and kissed him on the lips softly. “At least we still have tonight.”

“Yes, at least we have tonight.”

Jesse rubbed my shoulders. “Are the mosquitoes biting you?”

“In the worst way.”

He opened the always unlocked door of the cabin and pulled me inside. “Let’s get you safe.”

“Nothing can keep me safe after tonight.”

Jesse used some matches to light the two hurricane lights on each side of the cabin. “Susan, I’d prefer if we just didn’t talk about tomorrow. It’s going to come soon enough, and there’s nothing either one of us can do about it.”

“That’s true,” I conceded. “You’re right. Let’s just not talk about it.”

“Oh, shit! Are you hungry, baby? I should’ve bought you something to eat on my way up.”

“I’m fine. I haven’t had an appetite for days. Food is the furthest thing from my mind.”

Jesse came closer to me and embraced me once again. “So what is on your mind?”

“Other than what’s going to happen when the sun comes up?”

“Yes, other than that.”

“Making love to you one last time. We’ve loved each other so long, Jesse. Things are just not going to be the same once we’re apart.”

He forced a smile, but it didn’t relax me one bit. “We’ll still see each other often. They have visiting hours, you know?”

“It won’t be the same, Jesse!” I yelled out in desperation. “We won’t be able to touch, and I need to feel your touch. I need to feel your touch all the time.”

He caressed my cheek and kissed my forehead. “So imagine that I’m touching you. Imagine that I’m always around, always there for you. Just close your eyes and feel me. Feel my hands all over your body. Feel me inside you. Feel my love surrounding you.” He lifted my chin so I had to look into his eyes. “Will you try to do that for me?”

“I can try. Just not sure it’s going to work.”

“It will work. Trust me. Have I ever lied to you, Susan? Ever?”

“No.”

“And I’m not about to begin lying to you now.”

Suddenly the tears began to fall from my eyes. “Jesse, just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that, baby?”

“That fifteen years from now, when those gates open up, we’ll be together again.”

“I promise you that, Susan. I promise.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I love you, Jesse. Remember I love you always.”

“You remember the same.”

Jesse dried my tears with his shirt and lifted me up so that my legs straddled his waist. He danced with me in his arms to imaginary music and hummed our favorite slow song. We twirled around and around until we ended up over by the ancient iron bed. Jesse put me down, and the bedsprings began to creak.

I laid my head on the dusty pillow that made up the bed along with an old patchwork quilt. Jesse lay down beside me.

“I wonder what the man who used to live here was like,” I said aloud.

“I don’t know. I never knew him. He kept pretty much to himself, from what I hear.”

“I wonder who he loved. If he ever loved—and if anyone ever loved him back.”

Jesse sighed. “I’m not sure, but I guess he was alone when he died. No one claimed any of his property; not even this house.”

“Thank goodness for that, because this house holds so many special memories for us.”

Jesse and I faced each other on the bed and became lost in each other’s eyes.

“Susan?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I want you to have my baby.”

I was stunned.
A baby!
“Jesse, you know that’s something I’ve always wanted, but under these circumstances, it doesn’t make sense. A child should have both parents, and that can’t happen.”

Jesse looked so sad. Then a grin spread across his face. “Will you still be able to birth babies in fifteen years?”

I giggled. “Hmm, I guess so. I’m twenty-six now, so that would make me forty-one, and I’ve heard of women that old having babies.”

The despair returned to his face. “Forty-one. God, that seems like forever.”

I lifted the bottom of his shirt and rubbed his flat, muscular stomach. “Let’s just make love like there’s no tomorrow, because there really isn’t a tomorrow for us.”

Jesse leaned over and kissed me passionately. I took his hand and placed it between my legs. I wanted him to feel how hot I was for him. How much I needed to be with him just one last time.

Within minutes of intense foreplay, we were both naked and rolling around on the bed like wild animals. Jesse entered me, and I cried. Not because it hurt, but because I knew it was the last time I would likely feel him inside me. Fifteen years was a long time, and there was no guarantee both of us would live to see the day.

I grabbed onto his ass cheeks as he worked his dick around inside my love canal. It was more intense than ever, and I wanted to make it last forever. I sucked on his earlobe as he came the first time. I was already ahead of him by three. Cum was all over the quilt, and most of it was mine.

Jesse turned me over and entered me from behind. I grabbed the headboard and let him enjoy the ride. He started moving in and out of me more vigorously, and I could feel his balls slapping up against my ass. It was heaven.

He grabbed my hair and pulled my pussy back deeper onto his dick.

“Susan, I hope a miracle happens tonight,” Jesse whispered in my ear. “I hope something changes.”

“Jesse, please.” I gripped my pussy muscles as tight as I could onto him. The tears began again. This man truly loved me, and soon I would be without him. “Please don’t mention tomorrow again.”

 

We made love until Jesse fell asleep. I couldn’t sleep if my life depended on it. I was too afraid that the police would find us somehow.

I got up from the bed and did something I had never even thought about doing in all the years we had been coming there. I went over to the old rickety dresser and opened the top drawer. For some reason, I felt like I needed to know something about the man who had lived there—the man who made the old cabin his home.

There was not much worth interest in the drawer. Some dingy clothing, an old pocketknife, and some Tiger Balm for aches and pains. I was about to close the drawer when something got stuck. I reached underneath the drawer and realized something was taped to it. It was tough, but I managed to rip it off.

There was a plastic bag surrounded by duct tape. I removed the tape and discovered a stack of old photographs inside the bag. There was a young black man in every single photo. They were taken in different years, but you could easily tell they were all of the same person. There was a picture of him as a baby bouncing on a woman’s lap. There was a picture of him as a young lad standing beside a man holding a hunting rifle. I figured those were pictures of him and his parents. Then there were pictures of him as a teenager with a teenage girl. She was very pretty and looked like she was full of life and hope for the future. The last picture was of the same couple standing in front of the cabin, which looked recently built. They had on wedding rings and were caught up in a tight embrace.

“So he was married,” I said to myself. “I wonder what happened to her.”

I put the pictures back in the bag and placed them inside the drawer instead of taping them back underneath. I wondered why he would have them hidden like that. I decided to explore further and opened the second drawer. There was a knitted baby blanket on top, and underneath there was a silver spoon. I wondered if they also had a child. It is amazing what items can tell you about people who have passed on. Then I saw it: a death certificate. It stated that Abigail Lewis, age twenty-five, had died during childbirth along with her infant son.

A sadness came over me that I had never experienced. This man, the man who had resided in the place where I now stood, had gone through so much pain. He had lost his only true love at such a young age, and he had lost his child. Suddenly I didn’t feel so bad about my own situation. Fifteen years was a long time, but maybe Jesse and I still had a chance. Maybe the parole board would feel some sympathy and cut down on the sentence. Anything was possible as long as we were both still breathing. The people whose lives I had just explored had no more chances. Their time on this earth was over.

Jesse stirred in the bed, and I went to him. I lay on top of him and showered him with kisses. He woke up and kissed me back until our tongues were entwined. We started our lovemaking all over again, and we made love until the sun came up.

“Jesse,” I whispered in his ear. “I think it’s time.”

Jesse clung to me and began to weep. He had been so strong the entire time, and now he was breaking down. “No, it’s not time. This can’t happen.”

“Jesse, we agreed that today would be the day. We can’t prolong it. Things will only get worse. Right now, we’re looking at fifteen years. If we don’t do something now, we could be looking at a lifetime.”

“I need you just once more,” he proclaimed suddenly through tear-drenched eyes.

I couldn’t help but succumb to his wishes. How could I deny the man I loved anything? I caressed his dick and worked it up and down in my hand. He lapped at my breasts and clung onto my waist for dear life. I climbed on top of him and quickly placed him inside me. I prayed that the moment would never end.

“I love you so much, Susan.”

“I love you, too.”

“God, I’m going to miss this.”

Jesse pulled me down on him tighter, and I worked my pussy back and forth on his dick as hard as I could until we both achieved one last orgasm.

Jesse let me go and got up to get dressed. I slipped my clothes back on and went out on the porch. A moment later I felt his arms massaging my shoulders. “You want me to drive you into town, Susan?”

I placed my hand on top of his. “That would be nice.”

 

We drove in silence, and I looked at the sky the entire time. It was so beautiful. The air hitting my cheeks through the lowered window was a wonderful sensation. Everything I had ever taken for granted seemed significant during that drive.

We pulled up in front of the police station, and Jesse got out to come around and open my door. Before I could even get out of the car good, the sheriff and two of his deputies were on the sidewalk. They must have spotted us through the window.

“Susan Wilson!” the sheriff yelled out at me. “Put your hands over your head and step away from the car!”

I looked into Jesse’s eyes and saw pure sadness. “I’m so sorry, Jesse. I made a mistake.”

“Susan Wilson! You’re under arrest for armed robbery! Now place your hands over your head! I’m not going to tell you again!”

“Sheriff, I’m here to turn myself in!” I informed them. “Just give me a chance to say good-bye!”

Jesse grabbed me around the waist and kissed me. Our one last kiss.

The sheriff and one of the deputies grabbed me from him, pulled my hands behind my back, and slapped on handcuffs. They wasted no time in dragging me across the pavement toward the door.

“Remember I love you always,” was the last thing I heard Jesse say before they slammed the door in his face.

June 2002

My cell was like a dungeon. The years had blended together, and time lost all meaning. Fifteen years turned into seventeen because of an escape attempt. I couldn’t live without Jesse, and I needed to see him. I needed to be with him. The other two inmates who tried to escape with me were shot and killed right outside town. Dogs tracked me down, and I surrendered. Being ripped apart by sharp teeth was not the way I wanted to die.

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