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Seashells Ch. 05 free porn video
Copyright @ calibeachgirl
All rights reserved, 2012
Thanks to estragon and deepblue…
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Chapter 15
The low-pitched, gravelly sound brought everyone out of the house to the front porch where they saw two black stake-bed trucks making the long drive up from the coast road. Eventually, they parked and the two drivers approached them.
‘We’re sorry it took a few extra days,’ said the older man, wiping the road dust from his face with his sleeve. He pointed to the hundreds of tomato plants in the back of the trucks, ‘but you wanted tomato plants and we had to go get them.’
‘I said a couple of hundred. How many do you have here?’ asked Jack, scratching his head at all the foot-tall green plants he saw.
‘Exactly five-hundred. Mr. Johnson said the extras were on him and thanks for buying the truck.’
‘All right, I guess. That’s a damn lot of tomato plants, though.’
‘Where do you want them?’
‘Might as well bring them around the back.’
A half-hour later, all the plants had been unloaded and lined up against the outside of the carriage house. Bill stood there, counting his way through the rows.
‘Don’t bother,’ Jack said. ‘There’s supposed to be five-hundred.’
‘I can believe that. It’s going to take forever to get these all in the ground.’
‘Not really. If you and I take a couple of shovels and dig holes about a foot apart a couple of rows wide the girls can get them into the ground without too much work.’
They eventually dug five rows to keep the plants closer to the house, making it easier for them to be watered. Three girls, wearing their new Levis, were on their knees, putting the plants into the ground and pushing the soil back into each hole while the other three brought new plants to them. Halfway through, they changed.
By the time noon had arrived, all the plants were in the ground and while Susan was making sandwiches for everyone, bucket after bucket of water was brought from the outdoor wellhead.
‘Well, I’m glad that’s over,’ said Catherine. ‘My knees are killing me. We need a long hose.’
‘Tomorrow, the grapes are coming,’ Jack said to their astonished groans. ‘Haha, just kidding.’ Looking at all the plants, Jack whistled. ‘You know, we could go into the tomato business, selling them in town. Give the girls a little pocket money and an excuse to go into town instead of staying out here all the time.’
‘You’re the boss,’ Bill said, laughing. ‘It’s either that or learn to cook Italian and quick.’
At that moment, a smiling Susan, her golden blond hair shining in the early afternoon sun, returned with a tray of sardine sandwiches. ‘I hope you like them, Mr. Crawford. The fish are fresh from Monterey.’
‘Thank you, Susan,’ he replied, taking one, mindful of the blister on his hand.
Jack walked into the house to shower. It had been a long day and his back was strained from all the digging. He wondered how the girls felt. Today, he knew, had to be a one-time event. It turned out to be more strenuous than he had ever imagined and was glad that he wasn’t a farm worker.
That evening, even though he was just becoming stiff, he walked downstairs for dinner.
‘I’ve prepared roast chicken, with potato salad and biscuits and honey,’ said Susan, smiling. ‘And for dessert, peach tarts and whipped cream. I noticed you liked them the last time I prepared them.’
The clatter of knives and forks competed with the conversation that evening meal and as the dishes were being cleared in time for the tarts, Jack said, ‘You’ve outdone yourself tonight, Susan. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, sir,’ she replied, touching his arm suggestively. ‘Anytime you want something special, you just ask.’
‘Uh, yeah, sure.’ He watched her retreat into the kitchen and return moments later with dessert.
‘And a specially big scoop for you.’ Spooning the cream over Jack’s tart, she passed the dish to him. ‘I’ll let the rest of you take care of yourselves,’ she said, passing the tarts down the table.
Bill watched Susan go quickly to the kitchen to take the tray back and then return. She sat to Jack’s left and stared at Georgia, a smug look on her face. Georgia just smiled, turned to Catherine sitting next to her and spoke to her about the film ‘Ben Hur’ they both wanted to see.
Susan put her hand on Jack’s arm again, vying for his attention.
‘What?’ he asked, surprised at her attention.
‘I said, ‘did you plan on going to see the next Buster Keaton film?”
‘Oh, I don’t know, probably not… that doesn’t mean you can’t go to see it. We can arrange something to take you girls into Carmel.’
‘No, that’s OK.’ She tried again to find something to talk to him about but his attention was lost, he spent the rest of the evening talking to Ellen about ‘The Great Gatsby’. His contention was that no one in the novel was a good person while she felt the narrator was at least better than the rest.
Jack went outside, threw his head back and stared at the sky. There were no stars and a new moon peaked out through the coastal fog. He was unsure if that was how his life, their life, was to be… hazy and dark.
That night, after everyone had gone to bed, he heard his bedroom door slowly open and the soft patter of bare feet pause at the threshold and then approaching as the door clicked close. He opened his eyes, knowing who he would see. He leaned back on his pillow and took her gently by the shoulders. ‘I was hoping you would come.’
She took her first trembling step toward the bed, her eyes focusing on his smile, just visible in the dimness. She stood there, gazing at him, memorizing him, embarrassed that she had stopped.
‘How could I not? I’ve been thinking about you all day, ever since…’
‘You’re not too tired from the tomatoes?’
‘A little but that’s OK. I brought you some berries,’ she said, her fingers tight on the plate. ‘You’re teasing me, aren’t you?’
When she reached the side of the bed, he winked and slid over on the bed and eased her toward him. ‘I’m flirting with you, Georgia. We moved so fast that we skipped through the rituals that lovers have.’
‘Oh,’ she said, quietly, still afraid that one of the girls might hear. She couldn’t think clearly with him holding her so closely.
Slowly, he eased away a bit, giving her room to breathe but only enough to reach a strawberry from the plate. He brought the berry to her mouth, touching it to her lip, he tempted her with its scent.
He rolled the berry along her lower lip, his gaze riveted to her mouth, just visible in the darkness of the room. A cool drop of juice rolled down her chin. Before she could wipe it off, Jack bent over her and licked it away with his tongue.
It happened so swiftly, she might have thought she imagined it, if not for the way her flesh sizzled in that one, moist spot.
He held the berry above her mouth, his voice low and inviting in her ear. ‘What do you think, Georgia? Are you ready for a taste?’
She wanted a taste of him so badly. She hated every moment she wasn’t in his arms. At that instant, all her nerves leaped to life, as if every one of them reached and thirsted for his touch.
Arching her neck, she lifted her head to the dangling fruit and snapped it from the stem with her teeth. Sweet juice burst over her tongue and seeped down her throat as she chewed.
Jack watched Georgia like a starving man. She licked her lips to seek out every bit of juice. She cupped his cheek in her hand and titled his gaze to her eyes. ‘I’m ready for more than just a taste.’
He swallowed nervously as he fought to continue breathing. He placed one finger over her lips and tossed a strawberry into his own mouth to quell his sudden thirst for the taste. ‘This time,’ he said, ‘we’re taking it slow.’
She nipped his finger with her teeth to free her lips. ‘Just don’t
make me wait any longer.’
Picking up another strawberry, he slid the fruit into her mouth. ‘I’m going to love you like you’ve never been loved before.’
He wanted to feed her berries, to wrap her in silk, to comb every inch of her hair with his fingers. He forced himself to focus on her wide, dark eyes and not her mouth.
A slow smile curled around the lips he was definitely not looking at. He moved to lock the door, wondering what they’d do when they had to confront the outside world again. They couldn’t stay locked in his bedroom forever.
Georgia moved closer to him, her hip to his, her curves burning his skin, scorching his flesh with her heat through the almost innocent brush of her nightgown.
He took a strawberry to her throat and slid it down to the neck of her gown. She shifted beside him, arching upward at his teasing touch.
He ate the skin-warmed berry off his finger and took another. Sweeping her fallen hair away from her ear, he bent over her to whisper, ‘You know, it’s not really enough to eat one of these by itself.’
‘It’s not?’ she asked, radiating heat like the California sun.
‘I’d rather lick the taste off you.’
Her breathing sped up.
Slowly, he tugged her nightgown up to expose her breasts. He smiled to see them. Sliding off the bed and onto the floor in front of it, he pressed her back onto the sheet. Her dark hair cradled her like a blanket, conforming to her body.
He fought a primitive urge to rip her panties off, to feel her thighs around him again. He knew her nervousness would vanish when they touched. He grazed the softness of her stomach with her fingertips and squeezed a single strawberry over the top of her navel. The juice filled the slight indentation, just trickling over both sides.
Jack bent his head to her midriff, taking in her clean, sweet scent. The only trace of strawberry left rested in the dark pool at her waist.
Moving his lips over her taut flesh, he rejoiced in the small jump of her body when he inserted his tongue into her navel. Her hips curved up against his shoulder, her fingernails raked the sheet.
Still, he took his time cleaning every drop of juice from her skin, trailing his tongue along the sides of her waist to the top of her panties. Georgia whimpered when he stopped there, wriggling her hips in unmistakable invitation.
Pulling her white panties down, he promised himself he wouldn’t rush. He was simply trying to tempt her all the more.
He had been dying to glimpse her thighs again. He brought another strawberry to the slope of her breast, sliding the fruit downward, painting her skin in juice as he went. The thrust of her nipples against his palms was making his heart beat harder and he pulled the gown over her head and threw it on the floor.
‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘I need you.’
He paused to gaze into her eyes, seeing more deeply into her soul than anyone else had ever done. The first time, she had lost her innocence. This time, she knew she was going to lose her heart forever. She had made that choice when she told him he could have her as his lover, as his mistress, as whatever he wanted.
She pulled him to her, needing the heavy press of his body on hers, it was deliciously familiar and foreign at the same time. His solid male form didn’t give an inch, yet her body molded to accommodate his. His strawberry-scented breath worked faster to heat her blood.
She reached for his nightshirt and dragged it over his back, off his body. The slide of his legs against her thighs shifted her attention from an emotional desire to a physical one.
Jack smoothed his palms down the length of her arms, and then lifted her hands to rest over her head. His lips moved down her neck to her breasts, tasting the flesh along the way. She couldn’t find her voice and her hands remained wantonly stretched over her head where he had placed them.
Georgia put her attention on the play of his tongue over her skin, the slither of his hands along every inch of her body. When he had sampled every bit of her that was exposed, he grazed his stubbled cheek over her skin, igniting a deep shiver within her.
He put kisses along her waist. She wanted the satisfaction of completion, the fulfillment she had experienced only once before at the hotel.
He continued to administer lazy kisses along her hip where her panties had recently rested.
‘Jack?’ She grasped at his shoulders with her fingertips, desperate to hold him in her arms, inside her. Damp heat pooled between her legs, a swirling, restless ache.
He ignored her plea, sliding off the bed to kneel on the floor beside her. She whimpered in frustration until he settled one thigh over his shoulder and kissed her in the most shocking, delicious way.
‘Oh, Jesus,’ she gasped, then whispered, then sighed and moaned in turn as his tongue flicked over her again and again. The restless heat built until it shattered, pounding though her like a tidal wave to drown her soul.
Jack gave no respite, gently biting the inside of her thigh and the slow, warm swirl began all over again, tingling though her legs and breasts.
He covered her with his body and positioned himself between her legs. He felt so good against her, so right. He combed his fingers through her hair and cradled her cheek with one hand, then eased his way inside her.
Georgia squeezed her thighs around him and reveled in the intense pleasure he brought with every thrust of his hips. He brought her to the brink she had already hurtled over once. This time, he held her there, stretching out the dizzying feelings so that her release launched her even higher than before.
He trailed her by only a moment, his body surging with the force of his final surrender. She closed her eyes and wished she could remain there, shielded by his strong arms.
‘Jack?’
‘Hmmm?’ He paused in the middle of kissing a path from her chin to her ear.
‘What made you love me?’
‘I’ve been loving you so long, it’s hard to say.’
Chapter 16
The slight sizzle of pancakes as Susan poured fresh batter onto the griddle, accompanied the smell of fried bacon filling the kitchen. Ellen was busy squeezing oranges for juice and looked up just in time to see Bill walk in the back door.
After washing his hands in the sink, he got a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a glass of juice. ‘It’s pretty hot out there, already, so I watered the tomatoes for you.’
‘Thank you, Mr. Doyle.’ Ellen filled his glass once again and then turned back to the crate of oranges on the floor.
‘Good morning, Susan. How are you this morning?’
‘Fine, Mr. Doyle. Thank you for asking. Is Mr. Crawford up?’
‘Yes, he’s been up. I don’t know where he is, though. He’ll be down for breakfast, I’m sure.’
The two girls brought out the breakfast platters piled high with pancakes and bacon and set them down on the table. A few minutes later, Georgia came down and sat at her usual place. Everyone noticed the empty place at the head of the table. They all looked at Bill for some explanation but he just shrugged his shoulders.
‘Might as well start eating,’ he said. ‘No reason to let the food get cold.’ He cut up his pancakes and poured the honey.
Georgia shook her head. Her heart sank. She would drink her coffee, she thought, exchange some light, mindless conversation and leave.
‘Cream and sugar?’ Jack’s voice barely dented her thoughts. Georgia heard him as if he spoke from very far away. She nodded her head.
A moment passed. Her head came up. Her eyes opened wide. ‘I’d love some… some… if you have… coffee will be fine.’
Her voice dwindled away and she whipped her gaze from Bill to Jack. He set the cup of coffee before her and went to the tray for some cream and sugar. Seating himself in his usual chair, he picked up his own cup.
For several long moments he sip
ped his coffee in silence and Georgia could feel him watching her. When he finally spoke, she jumped.
‘Good morning.’ His tone was lazy and matter-of-fact.
Putting a bright, too happy smile on her face, she busied herself with the cream and sugar.
Jack laughed. His chest shook, his head fell back like he was enjoying a great joke and he laughed and laughed in a way that changed not only his mood but hers as well.
When he was able, he put his cup back on the table, leaned forward and asked, ‘How are you?’
Georgia looked at the broad white smile she remembered so well from the night before and found she was torn between feeling better and feeling embarrassed as the others at the table looked at her.
‘My mind was on something else.’
‘Oh,’ he replied.
‘I didn’t mean… oh, never mind, please.’ She stood to leave, her coffee untouched, her breakfast uneaten. She started to walk past him. Jack remained in his chair but snaked a hand to grab her before she slipped by.
‘What about your pancakes?’ He nodded toward the table. His laughter had left but his smile remained. ‘I’m sorry. Georgia, please, stay… I’ll be more civilized.’
Her name never sounded so good as when he said it. She sat back down, her hands in her lap.
He lifted his coffee cup but paused before touching it to his lips. He raised a brow. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Uh, yes, thank you.’
The others at the table watched the conversation move back and forth between the two of them.
He made no reply, there seemed nothing else to say for the moment. Sitting next to him was so different, now. She remembered the early hours of the morning when they had made love again. She almost sighed aloud at the memory. She had had so many plans for her life but had wound up here, sitting next to a man she couldn’t marry and yet loved with all her heart.
She broke the silence. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t able to…’ She stopped speaking.
Again they were quiet, but this time there was a returning warmth, of comfort in the silence, an echo of what they had done.
She ran her finger over a small chip in the cup’s edge.
He was watching her with a look of loving interest. Something had happened, that was clear to the others, who all this time had kept a watchful silence.
Georgia linked her trembling fingers on the table, moistened her lips and met his gaze squarely. She grabbed her coffee and took a hefty swallow and then lifted her gaze from the table-top. ‘I’d like some pancakes, please.’
Chapter 17
They had spent the day driving… and shopping. He had insisted on stopping in Carmel. Opening his wallet, he told her to buy anything she wanted. Although he had bought everyone new clothes before, having him buy clothes just for her was still an unsettling experience.
She had assumed he would leave her to her own devices while he made his own selections for their impromptu trip, but he involved himself in her every purchase. It practically paralyzed her, Jack looking at the lingerie.
Georgia stood immobile at the nightgowns. He purposely declined anything that was made of flannel and began to choose things that were lacy and enticing. She quivered at the intimacy of it all, even though they had become lovers the last few weeks.
Jack felt no such qualms. He had grinned at her hesitation, searching the shelved boxes until he found one he declared quietly would look wonderful on her. It was all clinging black lace with tiny red rosebuds on the bodice.
Even now, as they finished their meal farther up the coast outside of Santa Cruz, the nightgowns hung like portents of the future in the bedroom closet at the small inn they found.
‘I’ve got a girl with me,’ he had said to the clerk as he checked in, laying down a fifty-dollar bill. ‘Is there a problem with that?’
The clerk just smiled and taking the money gave him a key.
Jack sipped his water and dropped an inquisitive glance at the dinner she had hardly touched. ‘Not hungry?’
‘Not very.’
‘Would you like to leave?’
‘No!’ Thoughts of the nightgown made her answer a bit too emphatically. ‘I mean, you should finish yours.’
‘I have.’
‘Do you want some of mine?’
‘No.’ He looked at her across the table. ‘Would you like some dessert? They have ice cream.
Ofelia
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