A True and Tragic Southern Romance
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A True And Tragic Southern Romance Ch. 02 free porn video
Author’s note: DO NOT read A TRUE AND TRAGIC SOUTHERN ROMANCE until after you read part 2.
Moonlight painted the humble bedroom a soft gray with hard shadows. The spring breeze brought the delicious sent of camellias and Confederate jasmine to the couple who lay on their marital bed.
Ora Bradey roused enough to turn to her husband and rest her cheek on her right arm. The breeze was cool on her bare shoulders, uncovered by the soft cotton gown that barely came to her knees. It felt good enough for her to either go back to sleep… or to seek the warmth of her husband’s body. Jim, breathing lightly, must have felt Ora’s movements and rolled to face her, each feeling the other’s gentle breath on their skin.
No words passed between them, there was no need for words when hearts knew each other so well. Their hands began to explore each other’s… explore is the wrong word. Ora knew Jim’s body as well as she knew her own, and Jim knew Ora from toe to head top, the curve of her hip, the tenderness of her breast, and oh, the sweet, sweet taste of her lips. Familiar places were touched, pressed, kissed, as both loved like angels from heaven were guiding them.
Ora felt both of Jim’s hands grip the sides of her gown and pull it up to her waist. He did not ask, she did not offer to raise her weight from her back as he exposed her legs to himself, but she willingly spread her knees, giving him access to her most intimate parts. Without looking she found his member with both hands and guided him to its destination.
Jim began to move, not gently, rutting like the stallion he was. Ora’s vaginal muscles clinched tight around the object of her greatest pleasure as it thrust into her over and over. She moaned as the first wave swept over her. Jim thrust more rapidly, his moment approaching, and filled her as her second orgasm spun the bed around, or so it seemed to her.
Jim lay on her a minute, then rolled onto his back with Ora under his arm, smiling.
‘Momma?’ chirped a tiny voice from behind a creaking door. Jim and Ora both smiled, first at each other, then at the curly haired toddler clad in a night shirt made from a soft flour sack and carrying a rag doll made from another flour sack. Audrey shyly peeked around the door.
‘I s’eep wit’ you, Momma?’ Audrey asked. Jim chuckled and Ora smiled, then patted the bed, inviting the child to join them. Audrey climbed in and over Ora to take her place between her parents.
The moonlight had been replaced by the gray of pre-dawn when Ora awoke to find herself alone. Jim and Audrey were nowhere to be seen.
Ora jumped to her feet and pulled the gown off over her head. Without washing herself or bothering to put on drawers she grabbed her heavy work dress and headed out of the bedroom. Between the bedroom door and the front door of the parlor she had the dress on and half buttoned. As her bare feet hit the dirt outside the front door she started running, the dress still unbuttoned, revealing her body in a most indecent manner.
Her bare feet propelled her down the dirt road like a deer, running as fast as she could. The partially buttoned dress flapping obscenely, revealed legs, buttocks and breasts as she ran. If anyone had been awake to see her she would not have cared as she ran to where she knew she would find Jim.
She turned off the main road onto the wagon trail. Tall grass slapped at her ankles. Sweat soaked the dress as she neared the oak tree, their trysting place before they were married. Truth be told, half the ladies in the township had lost their virginity under that ancient oak, and God only knew how many Choctaw women had done the same before the English came. Still, it was THEIR place and she knew he’d be there.
Ora did not slow down as she approached. She began shouting fifty yards from the tree, ‘JIMMY!’ Within arm’s reach of the tree she stopped to catch her breath. ‘Jimmy! Jim Bradey! I know you’re here!’
‘I’m here,’ said Jim behind her. Ora spun on her bare feet, the dress falling over her shoulder, her left breast in full view.
Jim was wearing the only suit he’d ever owned, the one he’d worn on their wedding day. Dear God, he looks so handsome she thought, but she hadn’t come to love him again.
‘I ain’t your wife no more, Jimmy!’ she gasped, catching her balance by leaning against the tree, half hiding behind it as if he would throw something at her. He wouldn’t, of course, Jim would never raise a hand to her, not to the mother of his child.
‘I ain’t your wife no more!’ she repeated, trying to make herself believe it. ‘You can’t come t’ mah bed no more! Ah’m marryin’ Lee t’day!’
Jim stood silently, expressionless. She hated that look. What was he thinking behind those cool blue eyes? What was she thinking, trying to leave him behind to marry another man? Dear God, she thought, I can’t help it! I want Jim! She stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against him, covering his mouth with hers. She tried to grind her crotch against his, begging him to become erect, to take her right here under their tree, To take her like the night he took her virginity and asked her to be his wife. Jimmy didn’t respond.
Ora shrugged the dress off her shoulders, letting it fall around her feet, and stood naked in front of him. Her eyes pleading with him to take her one more time, she couldn’t find a voice to say a single word. Jim didn’t blink.
‘Momma?’
Ora felt a tiny body pressing against her bare leg and looked down to see Audrey, dressed in her best little dress, the one so lovingly sewn by her Grandma. Big blue eyes, Bradey blue eyes, looked up behind yellow curls that fell all over her head and down to her shoulders.
‘Momma?’ the child repeated.
Jim stepped forward and scooped up the girl. He never turned, just walked. Ora turned and watched him walk away, a confused Audrey staring over his shoulder.
‘You’re not my wife anymore, Ora,’ he said. ‘Go have Lee’s babies.’
Ora crumpled to the ground, her dress still around her feet, her arms crossed over her breasts and her face in the grass. She cried. And she cried. And she cried.
That afternoon Ora’s half-brother Budd drove the borrowed carriage to take Ora, her matron of honor, Matty, and their mother Annie to the wedding. Annie sensed Ora’s feelings and tried to keep the conversation light, her daughter should be happier than this.
‘One thing ’bout women in this fam’ly,’ Annie said, trying to make Ora smile, ‘We sure get the use out o’ weddin’ dresses! I wore that dress when I married Budd’s daddy, and ten years later when I married your daddy. Then you wore it for Jimmy, and Matty wore it when she married Tim.’ Ora didn’t respond.
‘Maybe the next time it’ll be one o’ your granddaughters wearin’ it, Momma!’ Matty chirped.
‘Ah d’no,’ said Annie. ‘Ah hear Lee’s bachelor uncle from Texas is here, Ah ain’t met him yet!’
‘Momma!’ said Matty, ‘Shame on you!’
‘Hey, Ah been a widow twice, little girl! If’n ah meet the right man…’
Ora shifted her flowers to one hand to gently slap her mother’s knee, but she never raised her eyes or said a word.
Before the carriage reached the church it passed the graveyard. Annie reached over the seat and tapped Budd’s shoulder. He reined the horses to a halt.
‘We’ll walk from here,’ said Annie. ‘Help us out an’ go tie up the horses.’
‘You sure?’ said Budd.
‘Ah’m sure.’
Budd did as he was told and left the three women standing at the gate of the cemetery. Ora looked at her mother’s face for the first time all day.
‘Momma…’ she pleaded.
‘You have t’ do it alone, Ora. If ya don’t… you’ll never be able to be a godly wife to Lee.’
Knowing her mother was right, Ora handed her flowers to Annie and slowly walked into the cemetery. Ten steps took her to the Bradey plot. Twelve more to the tombstone marked JAMES C. BRADEY
1893-1915. Beside it was a smaller stone that bore the inscription AUDREY C. BRADEY 1915-1918. Ora fixed both stones in her field of vision so that she saw nothing else.
‘This’ll prob’ly be the last time ah see ya’ll for a while,’ Ora said. ‘Lee and I will be movin’ t’ Louisiana. Budd and Matty have promised t’ clean yer stones ev’ry Easter for me. I still love ya’ll, but I love Lee, too, an’ I want t’ be as good a wife fer him as I was fer you, Jimmy. Ah’ll never forget either of you. Some day ah’ll see you up yonder.’
When she turned her back on the stones she heard birds singing for the first time that day. The sun was shining and she couldn’t remember the white walls of the church glowing so beautifully.
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