Coming Together: With Pride (4 page)

Just a quick wipe off and a change would be enough. He folded the diaper into a bundle, taped it tight, and dropped it into the trash.

He reached into the shower and grabbed the soft, thick washcloth he used to bathe her, running warm water and a dab of soap over it.

"Step your legs open, honey." He held up the washcloth and patted the insides of her thighs. She understood what he wanted, spread her feet apart into a heroic stance, and put her hands on her hips. The sight of her made him laugh. She was magnificent, an aging Wonder Woman in the nude. For a moment, he imagined her with a golden lariat and a tiara.

He kneeled down in front of her, as though he might pray to her—or beg her forgiveness. With the washcloth, he cleansed the smooth skin of her inner thighs, rubbing his hand indulgently against the nest of her damp hair. He washed the hair as attentively as a hair dresser, stealing touches against the skin of her labia, caressing them with the cloth, a necessary thing, and rinsing the hair, followed by the muscular cleft between her thighs and her pussy, making sure everything was clean and perfect.

He washed her butt cheeks gently and soothingly, lingering there to run his hands over them. That ass, that big gorgeous ass, heavy and resilient, was cuter to him than most girls' faces. He ran the cloth down the outside of her strong thighs, grooming the ruddy pink skin and marveling at the strength left in them. Returning at last to her bush, he pressed his face, his nose, deep into the springy jungle depths of it. The feeling was electric, and instead of resisting, she moved into him, and he breathed the clean animal aroma of her, adoring her as she had once been.

Her hands were on his head, and her fingers were in his hair, and he felt very confused. Everything about the situation felt wrong to him, perverted somehow. But she was his woman. Who would know how beautiful she was, if not for him?

The baby powder was on the toilet tank. He picked it up and squeezed a small snowdrift in his hands. Spreading it on her ass, her inner thighs, he explored her all over again, making her dry and perfect. As his hand passed over her labia, he wondered. Running an experienced finger over the lips, he explored them to see.
Yes. A little bit
. Not completely dry, some slickness there, something going on there.

She was in there somewhere, standing stiffly in her Wonder Woman posture, while he kneeled to her as though worshipping her. She was a lush Hindu goddess, a primitive fertility goddess who had forgotten herself and wandered the earth believing herself to be a mortal.

"Are we in Mobile now?"

"Do you remember," he whispered to her pussy, "when we lived in Barton Street, that walkup near the little store? I lost my job. No money, no rent. No food. We had this fight. You don't remember, but you were going to drop out of school. I wanted you to stay, and we had that fight. You said you were sick of housework. You hated ironing. You hated cleaning my stupid shit everywhere. You were tired of everything and all that, you know the way you get sometimes. You don't remember, no, but I took the ironing board, and told you I was going to do all the ironing from now on. And you did this thing, this amazing thing you did. You had curlers in your hair, like a damn space satellite. You went behind the ironing board and got on your knees, and I couldn't believe it, and then you just took my dick out, and I still couldn't believe it, and you just started sucking me off right there under the ironing board.

"Did I ever tell you? Did I ever tell you, you were the sexiest woman I ever knew? I think of you like that everyday now, you there working away on me under the ironing board, curlers dropping out of your hair, bobbing up and down getting me off, because you were sorry. I came in your mouth for the first time then and burned a hole in the shirt 'cause I just forgot everything I was supposed to be doing. That's what you could do to me in your day, Aimee. Make me forget everything that was bothering me. I kept that shirt for a long time 'til you threw it out, because looking at the hole in the sleeve always got me hot for you. It's not fair, you don't know now. That makes me want to die, 'cause you can't remember what a great woman you were. That was such an animal kind of painful thing for you to do, and I sure wish you weren't all so crazy now. Aw hell, I can't stand you this way."

He squeezed an extra puff of powder and worked it into her hair, dusting the skin around her sex lips and pausing to kiss the inside of her tensed, Wonder Woman thighs.

"Maybe that's why you get married to someone anyway. You just want a witness to tell the rest of the world you were there. You were here with me, Aimee. I knew you."

Tentatively, he caressed her pussy lips and felt them opening for him. His fingers were wet.

"This is Mobile, isn't it?"

He raised his head and looked up at her.
What the hell was this Mobile all about?
She was smiling down at him, and her eyes were full and fiery.

And he knew then what he was seeing. The revelation of it struck him so fiercely he had to get up and sit on the edge of the bathtub to absorb it.

Fog or not, she had remembered clearly something he had forgotten until that moment: Mobile, Alabama, on the train to Savannah. Savannah was where they would have their honeymoon, and the train was where they were on their wedding night. Although he was eager for her, she wouldn't let him fuck her until they reached Mobile. It was what she wanted. It wasn't the first time they'd had sex. That had been on their second date, sloppily and impetuously on the sofa in her sister's apartment, trying not to wake the family. That was when he knew she was the woman he would marry, this virtuous, intelligent, sturdy Republican with her ravenous appetites.

On their wedding night, they'd rattled through the dark countryside in their sleeping car, groping and driving each other wild, but she was forcing him to wait. And then the tobacco barns changed into buildings, and he wouldn't wait any longer.

She peeled off the rest of his clothes and then her own. She turned on the lights, and threw the curtains open wide. He'd taken her as she directed him to, hard up against the brightly lit window glass for all the world to see, his stiff cock all up in her tight, naked, and urgent and insane, and the train vibrated and rattled their bodies as they moved against each other.

Outside, rail lights flashed red and bells clanged as they whizzed through the barred crossings, packed with lines of cars; cars with white folks and black folks, good God-fearing families and children and grandmothers and babies and dogs watching her naked female Whore of Babylon ass as he pounded it good and hard up against the glass, putting on a big show for the good folks of Mobile, courtesy of the rolling iron of the Southern Pacific.

He came in her as they leisurely sailed through a crossing in the downtown, and she had the presence of mind to take out his wet cock and press it against the glass, waving hello with it to the people standing on the sidewalk gaping.

That was goddamn Mobile for you.

"Is this Mobile?"

"Yes, baby," he croaked. "You know, I think it is."

She smiled wickedly. "Good."

"Are you ready for Mobile?"

"I'm ready!"

"Let's go then. Let's stand by the window. That's what you want, isn't it? That's what Mobile is, right?"

"Mobile!"

"Anything you want, Aimee. Let's go to Mobile together." He herded her into the bedroom with his arm around her waist, and his cock tightening his pants. He marveled at how she seemed filled with purpose such as he hadn't seen in her in a long time. When he released her, it was Aimee who threw the curtains open.

She frowned. "Where're we going?"

"Wait," he said, searching quickly for the answer, desperate not to lose this moment without a fight. Then he realized the back yard was dark. He stood her against the wall. "Wait. I'll be back."

Faster than Clark Kent, he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt and had it off in one pull. One more pull, and he'd jumped out of his pants and underwear together in one motion. And he was naked, his eager cock hard and ready. She was staring at his cock with interest.

 
He ran around the room turning on every light and lamp he could find. "Just stay there!" he called, holding up his hands. He ran to the kitchen, his penis waving in the air, harder than he had felt it in years.

He turned on the kitchen lights and turned up the radio. Little Richard was screaming:

Good Golly, Miss Molly! Sure like to ball! When you're rockin' and you're rollin' can't hear your mama call!

The back yard lights!
The switch was outside.

Oh hell
, he thought.
That's the whole idea isn't it? Let the neighbors yell. Let them call the cops, that's all. Or let them tell Bobby and Frannie to haul me off to the nursing home, too. Tonight is the night I get to fuck my woman. By God, I'm going to fuck her.

He threw open the back door and ran out into the night, his boner waving in front of him like a herald. He threw open the back porch lights and then the yard lights, reveling in the chill night air.

Mobile, by God. Ladies and gentlemen, present your tickets to the conductor, we are in goddamn Mobile, and the entertainment is about to begin!

Back inside, he passed through the kitchen. There was an insidious moment of doubt. What would he find in the bedroom? That she had forgotten the glory of Mobile and wandered off? Gone to sleep in the closet or fallen down and hurt herself? Or maybe just didn't know who the old guy was and why he was trying so hard to stick his dick in her.

But she was there and waiting for him near the window, in her wide legged Wonder Woman pose. His wonderful Aimee, with her secret porno star soul all aglow like a child on Christmas morning, the back yard lights lighting up the contours of her wonderful naked body, all lights and camera and waiting for the big money shot.

"Mobile, Aimee! It's Mobile!"

She opened her arms wide for him.

He threw himself against her, and her arms captured him, and her tongue was in his mouth. She squatted and wiggled her hips under him, and like magic, his cock had slipped into her slick and easy depths. She held him tightly and without awkwardness. She threw her arms over her head, her signal for him to kiss her breasts. He mauled her big, motherly breasts in his hands and took both of her nipples and placed them in his lips together, sucking hard on them.

For the first time in ages, she was there for him, completely present for him. Her legs were wide, and she was there for him. She was working her hips in rhythm with his, and she was there for him as he struggled to keep sucking her nipples. Together, their breathing became ragged and filled with animal sounds, and she was there for him. The gasping turned to cries, and she continued to be there for him, even as he felt her legs go rigid and her pussy pressing down. She shivered in bliss, and she was there falling against him as her knees went weak. She was there, and she was still there for him as he surrendered to her lost amnesiac Hindu fertility goddess power of heaven and let it wash over him. As he felt his seed exploding in her, Wonder Woman Aimee, she was there for him, and this was her lover's gift to him alone for his loyalty, for his nights of faithful celibacy, and the nights cleaning up after her little accidents.

She held her husband's cock inside her and wouldn't let go, as if to thank him for being there with her through her nights of terror and hallucination—and occasional deadly violence—when he had to hold her down hard and whisper to her, and weep with her, and console her, and lie to her and tell her everything was going to be just fine—sure it would—when they knew it was all bullshit lies. God had abandoned them on this fucking runaway train, and the world was cruel, and all they had was each other, and everybody could go to hell including Him.
He could go fuck Himself, too! God damn Him. Phony sonofabitch bastard, I'll kill Your ass, but no, Aimee, I won't leave you, not never. No, sir. No.

For all of that and more, she held him tightly to her, hugging her powerful thighs around him so that he would never leave her ever even when she had finally left herself.