Snap. “Aaugh!” It broke. She fell.
“Fuuuck!” she screamed.
“No!” I rushed forward. It was too late.
Caitlyn was hanging upside down, firmly attached, by the shoelace loop of her left boot. Her arms hung down, her fingertips were all of maybe an inch off the ground. Her right leg was bent at the knee, hanging by its own weight.
I collapsed in laughter. She reminded me of a Tarot card. The Hanging Man.
She twisted, flexed, bent up, reached, bent up again, twisted again and tried to raise herself again, all to no avail. The sad thing was that had I not been there, Caitlyn would have been in a life threatening situation. Unless she could raise herself up and unhook that boot, she was food for the vultures. I doubted that anyone could hear screams from where we were. Finally she settled herself hanging upside down.
“Doug?” Her face was all red.
“Caitlyn?”
“Can you get me down?”
I paused for a moment.
“I don’t think so.”
“Douuuug.”
“Maybe, but it’ll cost ‘ya.”
She paused.
“I’ll suck your cock.”
I laughed. “No, you already do that and you love it.”
“I’ll shave my cunt.”
I laughed again, “No, you’ve already offered to do that.”
What a delicious moment.
“Alright Doug, what do you want me to do?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. She did look funny hanging there upside down. Completely helpless.
“Ooohh…I dunno.”
“Doug!”
“Let me think!”
“Doug!”
“Give me a second.”
“Anal sex. You can fuck me in the ass.”
I howled with that one. “No. Your ass is mine anyway.”
“What do you want?” She was growing desperate.
“Dinner. We’ll go out for dinner.”
“Dinner?” Her tone expressed her disbelief.
“Yes…but.”
“But…what?”
“I get to buy you a new outfit for dinner.”
I thought I could read suspicion on her upside down red face.
“What kind of outfit?” she asked carefully.
“A flowery dress and shoes and a purse to match.”
“Noooo!” She started to contort, she tried to reach her boot lace, her arms flailed about wildly. She kicked with her free leg.
“And no face metal.”
She twisted, she tried to reach for anything. Fighting, she tried to reach up.
“Pink fingernails. Light pink. Girly pink!”
“Noooo!” Her arms thrashed about. Her entire body turned a different shade of red. It was if she was attacked by a swarm of bees. It took a few minutes but she eventually settled down with her arms hanging down, fingertips almost to the ground. Her chest heaved in and out searching for air. Defeated.
“Fuck you,” she gasped.
“So is that a yes?”
There were two deep breaths before she hissed, “Yes.”
“Oh and one more thing, yes, I’d like your pussy shaved. Bald.”
She growled at me.
I clapped my hands together laughing. Oh what fun I was going to have.
I untied her shoelace. She slipped to the ground.
As she stood up I brushed the twigs and leaves off of her and gave her a kiss. “You okay?” I asked.
She smiled and said, “Yeah.”
“Are you staying tonight?” I asked. I could hear the apprehension in my voice.
“Only if you want me to Doug.”
“Of course I do. I know you bought something funny for dinner. What is it?”
“Nopalitos.”
“What the hell’s that?”
“Cactus,” she said as she picked up her spent beer can and turned to walk down the mountain. She turned after a few steps and said, “Come on let’s go.”
Did she say cactus? I picked up my beer can and followed her down.
“Do we get early Christian music with that?” I was ribbing her as I walked behind.
She stopped, considered for a second then said, “I’ve some Gregorian Chants in the Yaris. Only one CD though, but it’s two discs.”
“I was joking,” I said as we continued to make our way down the mountain.
She turned to me and said, “Well I’m not,” and then walked off.
What a strange bird, that Caitlyn Progue. How many Goth girls have Gregorian chants in their car?
I came downstairs after my shower, dressed in usual sweats and tee to the sound of monks chanting throughout my house. There was almost an echo happening. I half expected a line of brown robed, hooded little men to shuffle by. I was sure they were somewhere in the house. I checked to make sure the front window wasn’t replaced with stained glass.
“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” I kissed Caitlyn as I entered the kitchen.
“I told you, cactus,” she said and lifted the lid.
“Wow!” it did smell good. I didn’t see any needles, but I did see what appeared to be green tomatoes. “What can I do?”
“Set the table, I’m having my shower. Don’t let anything burn.”
Off she went. The monks and I were left in charge of cooking… of what I didn’t know.
There was a sliced onion and a clove of garlic on the cutting board. The rice was out. I picked up a little box she had obviously bought, Achiote Condimentado. What the hell?
She came down from her shower wearing a black knee length skirt and a white blouse. No bra because I could see nipples and nipple rings poking through. Somehow it didn’t match the fuzzy pink slippers. She had some eye makeup on too. Black naturally. But not too much.
From the couch where I sat I peered up holding my newspaper in one hand and beer can in the other. Clearly I had a puzzled look on my face.
“It’s Sunday night dinner Doug. Are you really going to be dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt?”
Gulp.
Apparently I set the table wrong. Caitlyn showed me how the plate has to be one inch from the edge of the table, fork on the left, one inch, knife on the right, also one inch, blade towards the plate. Small fork also on the left, outside of the larger one, also one inch from the table edge. Spoon on the right, outside of the knife.
“We won’t need teaspoons,” she said grinning, “I’ll make a gentleman out of you yet.”
What the hell?
Maybe it was the Gregorian monks that were mocking me? I went upstairs to change into nice slacks and a long sleeve shirt.
“That’s better,” she said smiling as I walked into the kitchen.
“Can I do anything to help?”
“You could pour me a glass of wine. White please.” She was stirring the rice and slicing a cucumber at the same time.
I drained back the rest of my beer and poured myself a glass of wine too.
“Do you have candles for the table?” she asked.
“I think so,” I answered, and went off in search of something that may or may not exist. After a few minutes I found one. It was only slightly burnt. I popped it into a glass candle holder and set it on the table. I found matches too.
“Go on, light it,” she said as she walked into the dining room with two salads on small plates. “Do you have trivets, something to protect the table from hot bowls? We need two.”
I found some and lit the candle just as Caitlyn showed up carrying two bowls with serving spoons in them.
I got the hint. I held out Caitlyn’s chair for her to sit on as she came back with her wineglass. With a huge smirk on her face she sat down as I pushed her chair in for her.
“Thank you kind sir.”
“You are most welcome madam.” I took my seat. “Do we need to say grace?”
“If you wish, but I think the monks have been doing that for the last hour, what do you think?”
“I would agree. Please tell me, dear lady, what is it exactly that we are dining on tonight?” I couldn’t tell.
“A stew of pork, Nopalitos, that is cactus and tomatillos. And this is rice with achiote, it’s a crushed seed, Mayan red.”
It was fantastic. I’d never tasted anything like it before. I certainly expressed my gratitude to Caitlyn for the fine dinner.
“Thank you for getting dressed up a little,” she smiled holding her fork.
“I must say that your nipples show well through the blouse. Thank you so much.”
“See, isn’t Sunday dinner nice?” she said with a huge grin on her face.
“With these monks chanting away, does that mean the Sunday night sex has to be missionary style?” I asked.
“Sex on a Sunday night? You must be joking,” she said with a straight face.
I think I turned white. I considered her leather collar with a cross, her early Christian music and the Gregorian chants. Is there some Christian taboo about Sunday sex that I don’t know about? What was with this girl?
“I’m joking Doug!” She curled her little finger and regarded it for a second.
I let out a sigh of relief.
We cleaned up after dinner. There were enough leftovers for both of our lunches the following day.
I snapped her ass with the tea towel as she ran out of the kitchen giggling heading for the stairs.
She was kneeling on the bed facing the door undoing her blouse when I made it upstairs. Her skirt was hiked up. Fuzzy pink slippers still on.
“Come suck my nipples,” she said as she slipped one arm from the sleeve.
Eagerly I approached the bed undoing my shirt.
“Pants too. I want you naked,” she said as she tossed her blouse to the side chair.
As I undressed I discovered that Caitlyn hadn’t been wearing panties the whole time. I missed some serious grope opportunities, especial during the clean-up. I made a mental note to myself.
She lay on her back on the bed, naked. I crawled up to her and lowered my mouth to her left nipple. Hard ring and soft nipple invaded my mouth. I twisted both with my tongue, my lips pursed and I gently suck it in. I could hear her breath escape. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked in as much breast as possible. Easily half went in. I returned to tongue teasing and gently sucking her nipple. Caitlyn teased my hair as I continued. I switched to the other nipple and repeated the process. Caitlyn’s breathing became heavier and heavier. Her nipples became longer and harder. I switched back to the left nipple and started the process again. After a few moments, I switched back to the right.
I suddenly became aware that my cock was rigid.
Caitlyn’s face was flushed as I pulled my lips off her nipple. Her fingers immediately continued where my tongue had left off. She gently twisted and tugged at her nipples.
I kissed my way down her belly stopping at the piercing in her belly button. I sucked and twirled it in my mouth before proceeding father south. By the time I reached her public hair I saw that Caitlyn’s belly was bouncing.
She spread her legs apart and held her knees up. Her pussy spread open to reveal her pink majesty. The sweet, tangy, earthy essence of Caitlyn juice pulled me in. My tongue touched her pussy lips. I gave her a huge lick and collected as much as she offered. Her taste triggered something deep in my brain because I lost all sense of time and space. It was me and her open pussy; a complete symbiotic relationship. I pleasured her pussy, she pleasured my brain. Her thighs quivered on either side of my head. I was aware of her moaning. I kept licking her innermost folds, tasting, kissing, savoring, extending my tongue into hole, swallowing with delight, twirling her rings with my tongue, kissing her clit, drooling, gently sucking her clit into my mouth, licking the length of her slit, relishing the flavor, poking my tongue into her hole again, swallowing, kissing her clit.
Her thighs and belly were shaking. I could hear her breathing.
I sucked on her clit and held the suction.
“Aauuugh!” her pussy flexed out to my chin. I gave her clit a hard lick, “Nnngghppha,” she contracted again, she gasped for air, “hhhhaaa,” she exhaled as she flexed again. I sucked in her clit again. “Auuughh,” she flexed to my chin again.
She dropped her knees. I saw her pussy contract again. Looking up I saw her face was red, sweaty. Her nostrils flared in search of air.
Her arms flopped to her sides as her chest heaved. With each breath her small tits widened and flattened.
“Oh god,” she gasped.
I lapped at her pussy again and was rewarded with a good dose.
“Fuck me,” she said breathlessly.
“Doggy?” I suggested playfully.
Without answering she rolled herself over and up onto her hands and knees.
“Shuffle down the bed,” I said to her, pulling her hips towards the foot of the bed. She complied. I shifted myself around the bed so that my cock was in front of her face. My cock was at full mast, pointing straight up. Before I had a chance to suggest anything Caitlyn’s mouth was on my cock, she was trying to stuff it down her throat but the angle was incorrect. She left it glistening with saliva.
I shifted and positioned myself behind her ass. She lowered her face and chest to the bed, Her right hand moved to her pussy, with her index and middle fingers catching her inner labia and rings she splayed her pussy open. Silently offering, inviting me in.
My cockhead was there right away. I pushed it in. She was tight, warm, wet. I grabbed a hold of her hips.
“Ohhh,” she exhaled.
I pushed all the way in and held my cock inside her.
“Ohhh…yeah…ohhh,” she gasped.
I slid my cock out and slowly slid it back.
“Yeah, that’s it…fuck me.”
Her fingers found her clit.
I slid my cock out and pushed it back in. I could feel her knuckles on my scrotum.
We started a good rhythm, she fucked back eagerly anticipating every push of my cock inside her. With each stroke the momentum increased. With each stroke the vigor and intensity increased. Very soon I was fucking her and she was screwing right back with all of her might.
The temperature in the bedroom increased, the oxygen level decreased. Our chests were pumping for air. Her right cheek was pressed to the bed, her face was red, nostrils flared.
I loved watching Caitlyn’s pussy lips get pushed in and then drawn out as they followed every stroke of my cock. Her bumhole flexed with her pussy lips. I was like a voyeur, gazing at the details of a porno film that I was starring in. Fully involved, but somehow detached. It only fueled my addled brain, pushing me closer to the edge.
Her brown bum hole was tightening and loosening, seeming on it its own volition. I dribbled some spit down and hit it squarely. I licked my right index finger.
Just between flexes, I slipped my finger in.
“Ahh,” her head shot up. After a moment as I continued to fuck her relentlessly, her head found the bed again.
I twisted my wrist and my index finger as I pounded into her. Her neck and head was bright pink.
Caitlyn’s relentless clit rubbing was pushing her. Her bum and thighs were shivering uncontrollably even though I was holding her hip with one hand and grinding my finger into her bum with the other.
I fucked with my cock in and out, angle to one side, to the other, angle down, roll my hips so that her bum hole was pushed out so I could penetrate more with my finger. Deep jab and another. Such joy!
“Aaauuughh,” her orgasm hit her as if she was smacked suddenly. Her spine arched up. I could feel tightness around my cock. I saw her bumhole contract around my finger. “Uuughh,” she did it again. Fingernails nipped at my scrotum as I buried my cock deep into her and finger as deep as it would go. “Nngghh,” she was gasping for air. Drool was collecting on the bed next to her face. It was too much to watch and feel.
I burst inside her. My hips flexed uncontrollably in recoil to each spurt. Everything was suddenly hot and wet. I was aware of my need for air. My heart was beating rapidly.
Caitlyn’s spine arched up and down as she reacted to my orgasm.
I fell on the bed, rolling onto my back. My rapidly deflating pecker flopped to the side, still glistening.
Caitlyn’s fingers were on her pussy searching. “You came didn’t you?” she asked. Her fingers shifted to her mouth.
“Yeah.” I thought that was quite evident.
She flipped herself off the bed and squatted on the floor next to the bed. Her legs wide open. Her right hand cupped under her puss.
Still on my back I watched the entire proceedings with my head hanging off the edge of the bed.
“There we go,” she smiled and pulled her hand to her mouth. Scoop, lick, finger, lick, she repeated four or five times. She stood to get access to my cock and managed to slip one of her cummy fingers into my mouth. “Nice?”
“Mnnng,” I managed before she pulled her finger out. Why does she do that?
Once her post coital ritual was complete s we lay on the bed wrapped in each other’s arms. I pulled the sheet over us.
“Thank you,” we whispered to each other.
“Tell me about your family,” she said as we lay cuddling.
“I have a mother and a father, both retired and doing well, and an older sister. She lives in Chicago. Mum and dad live in the same house we grew up in, in town. He was with the post office. She used to work for a printing company. What about you?”
“I never worked for a printing company.”
I smacked her bum.
“Three older brothers. One’s a lawyer in Ottawa, one’s a doctor, a podiatrist…”
“He delivers babies?” I interjected.
“No that’s a pediatrician, he’s a foot doctor,” she corrected me then continued, “and the third is a chemical engineer working for an oil exploration company.”
No wonder Caitlyn grew up thinking she wasn’t good enough.
“What about your parents what do they do?” I asked.
“My dad’s semi-retired. He was partner in a downtown law firm. My mom never worked except for raising us.”
“Wow, sounds like a well to do family,” I commented.
“We did okay,” she said casually and yawned.
After a few moments I asked, “Where did you learn to cook?”
“In a kitchen.”
“What? Did you take classes or work in a restaurant?”
“No. From my mom. It was her job and then my job to feed the men in the house.”
“That’s a bit sexist isn’t it? In today’s world?” I asked.
“We were traditional Catholic, what can I tell you?” She yawned.
“What did they want you to become?” I asked.
“A mother of twelve children. Other than that, I don’t think they cared.” I could see her eyes closing.
“Shut the light off,” I said. She did.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” I whispered.
“Goodnight Doug,” she whispered back and yawned.
*
On Monday we packed up the bench rails but didn’t call numb-nuts to tell him they were ready for pick up. That could wait until Wednesday. I didn’t want him to get the impression he overpaid for the work.
That morning a landscape architect that I’d worked with several times called me and asked me to stop by his office. We needed to deliver a bunch of stuff up to Whistling Swans anyway, so I combined the two events. Plus I wanted to get the dress for Caitlyn.
I asked her to come along.
We off loaded at the golf course then went to the architect’s office.
“Frank Proulx, this is Caitlyn Progue. Caitlyn, Frank.” They shook hands.
“So you’re the new Alfie?” Frank sized her up.
“New and improved,” I said.
“Oh?”
“Caitlyn has talents, which Alfie never had,” I turned to her grinning.
She blushed. I knew what she was thinking…’Doug, you prick’.
Frank described the job. He was doing the landscaping for a very well-to-do couple’s house. The work included a large deck with an outdoor kitchen, a hot tub spa area and a gazebo together with a privacy fence in two locations. “The whole garden is themed on lilies as the guy’s wife’s name is Lily and it’s her favorite plant,” he said. “Day lilies, he added as an afterthought.
“Do you have this job or are you just bidding on it?”
He laid out a set of drawings. They had his logo on it.
“I’ve got the job. It’s a go-ahead.”
“Excellent,” I said.
He wanted us to do bas-relief carvings of lilies on the woodwork. “Nothing gaudy or garish,” he said. “And no paint.”
Looking at the drawings I asked, “Where exactly do you want the carvings?”
“You tell me. Give me your proposal and your price.”
“Okay,” I said, “is the work to be done in situ or can it be done in my shop?”
“In your shop would be better, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, and less expensive. Let me ask, is it the same lily pattern to be used everywhere?”
“No I don’t want to brand it. But I don’t think the budget is there to custom carve everything. I need your carvings to tie everything together. To make it flow. What do you suggest?”