Chocolate Kisses 2: Pearl Ch. 01Posted on : 2012-01-28 10:43:47.933526
In the tale, "Chocolate Kisses," the characters of this story, were introduced. That tale related a forbidden romance in Depression Era Los Angeles.
James Ewart, 45, a World War One fighter ace whose children were viciously murdered. His wife, Catherine, committed suicide after becoming pregnant with the murderer's child. Years later, he fell in love with Bethany Rose, a colored woman.
Bethany Rose, 33, a college nursing student who dropped out due to the Depression. She and her Jimmy moved to Hawaii, the only territory beside Alaska where inter-racial marriages could be legally occurring. They have two daughters.
Eliza, Bethany's older sister, 38, married John Franklin, 50, a former member of the Ku Klux Klan, and they also moved to Hawaii with her three children from a previous relationship.
Thanks to pawwriter for editing this chapter; to elliot, lynn and pepper for their support...
Chapter 1... Early September, 1941
On the morning of Tuesday, the 2nd, Bethany Rose and Eliza, lifting the hems of their brightly colored sarongs, ran for the shelter of the small market's awning. Even during the dry Hawaiian month of September, the life giving rain splattered the rich volcanic soil and darkened their sandals.
Apprehensively, the two sisters looked down the narrow street toward Waimea Bay. For the last eight months, Popukea on the North Shore had been overrun by sailors. Everywhere they went, groups of sailors were standing around, watching, almost leering at all the women and girls, so exotic after living in small, isolated Southern towns.
Just like every girl or woman over the age of twelve, they were met with appraising looks from every uniformed man walking the streets. The locals knew who the haole women were. It was common knowledge their husbands were very obsessively protective of the two dark sisters and their children.
After that first assault, every woman in the area came to town with at least one male member of her family, usually two, sometimes armed with guns or machetes. Mostly, they didn't come at all.
The sisters went in to buy more sugar and flour for Eliza's fruit pies. Food hoarding had not been officially endorsed but at the beginning of the year the military had already begun to do so. As much as possible, the family didn't use any food set aside for the horrifying times they knew were going to come.
Eliza touched her sister's arm. "Bethany, let's get out of here," she anxiously whispered. "These sailors are giving me the willies and we need to leave."
The 'line to pay' seemed to move as slow as death. The old woman ahead of them hassled over the price of every item she had. Bethany already had her money out when two sailors came to the line and cut ahead of her, forcing her back into Eliza.
One, a tall sandy-haired man with a badly sunburned, peeling face, just laughed... a love, evil laugh and said something to her in a heavy, almost unintelligible Southern drawl.
Shocked, Bethany stepped back again, causing Eliza to drop both bags of flour. Hitting the wooden floor, they split open and a rising cloud of flour coated everything nearby, including both sailors' shoes.
"Look what you done, you dumb..." He walked toward her, his raised fist shaking in anger.
Bethany and Eliza continued to move back from the men, Eliza looking behind her as they tried to walk away.
"C'mere... what'chu gonna do 'bout muh shoes?" The other one stepped forward and grabbed Bethany by the arm, pulling her toward him, twisting her wrist. Her silver coins scattered onto the slippery floor, leaving dusty white trails as they rolled through the flour and under the shelves.
"Let me go! Please! You're hurting me!" She tried to pull away, pushing against the now slippery floor as her foot raised another dust cloud into the air. She took a deep breath to calm down and instantly regretted it as the flour dried her throat. Where was John?
He twisted harder, she screamed and he swung his other hand back to slap her face. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around; a fist came smashing into his nose. Then, a knee violently lifted him off the floor and the bleeding man collapsed onto the broken flour bags, exploding another white cloud into the air.
His friend cringed and edged cowardly back, seeking to disappear behind a display of Spam. Frantically looking to find a way out the door, he was met by another man's fist, doubling him over onto the tumbling cans and then the flour-covered floor, sending yet another cloud of flour across the floor.
Outside, a crowd had gathered drawn by Bethany Rose's high-pitched scream. Sailors outside started yelling while the mostly silent local crowed waited across the way. The people in the store could hear them as several sailors tried to enter the store but were stopped by a looming figure silhouetted by the sunlight.
Bethany was pulled back by Eliza who was now yelling something. Bethany couldn't understand what her sister was saying. The sharp burn in her wrist was overriding everything else.
She couldn't believe all this was happening... happening to her.
The sailor, who had attacked Bethany Rose, foolishly tried to stand up. John knocked him down again with a kick to the groin; this time, he stayed down, curled up in pain and crying like a stuck pig.
"John!" Eliza cried. "Oh, John, thank God."
John looked at the man cowering on the floor. "Get up again and I swear to God I'll kill you, you son of a bitch.
"Liza, put some ice on her wrist and wrap it up so it stays cool. Go on, girls, and keep that arm up, Bethany." Although Bethany had studied to be a nurse, the pain overwhelmed her; she forgot the most basic simple part of First Aid.
There was a huge roar outside and two burly SPs dressed in white pushed their wsay in. "What's going on here?" the bigger one asked, tapping his dark baton onto his left hand. He looked around the small market covered in flour and instinctively waved his hand through the still floating white dust.
He saw two sailors moaning on the floor and two civilians standing over them looking to kill. Who was that old man? Somehow, he felt he should know.
John looked over. "Glad the Shore Patrol finally decided to show up. Just taking out the trash, Master at Arms. Maybe you can help me?" John nudged the bleeding man with his boot.
"All right, all right... quit joking around. What happened?" He looked warily at the two sisters. Aside from being covered in flour dust, they were nicely dressed, not at all what he would have expected of two colored women, especially in a nowhere town in Hawaii.
He knew the local customs in Hawaii were very different from Fresno but it still took a conscious effort to work within its far different boundaries. All these people, here...so different... too different.
"This piece-of-shit, here, and that one over there, aren't worthy of the uniform. He was manhandling my sister-in-law and I took offense with his attitude and actions. He had no right to touch her and he's damn lucky you two showed up. I was about to take him out the back and kick his goddamn redneck ass all the way back to the mainland."
The SP looked at John, with his so gray, thinning hair and age lines on his face and hands. "How old are you, anyway?"
"Fifty. I was at..." he paused, "in the Great War, Belleau Wood."
"Jesus Christ... OK, we'll take these guys in. What's your name?"
"John Franklin, Sergeant John Franklin, USMC. I was assistant supervisor for the CCC reforestation project here in the territory until just a while ago."
"No more money, so it all got shut down. Listen, I need to look after my wife and sister-in-law."
It was at that point that he fully understood the meaning of John's words. A white man related to... married to? a colored woman? Jesus Christ! He shook his head in disbelief. What kind of insane place was this?
"How do I get in touch with you, Sergeant?" Once a Marine, the SP knew, always a Marine. He begrudgingly gave the old man his due, but that was another war in another time. Any future war, he thought, would never be fought hand to hand. Never...
"Just ask for the Ewart-Franklin place; we're up that first road off Kamehameha. Everybody knows us... not these two assholes, though.
"I doubt he'll forget us, now." John turned away and went to the sisters standing next to the freezer. Bethany had a yellow cloth full of crushed ice wrapped around her arm and was licking a root beer Popsicle that Hoshito, the store owner, had given her.
"Damn, I should have kicked that guy's ass more before those Shore Patrol guys showed up." He turned to his friend that had kept the door closed on the crowd. "Thanks, Lee; I guess I'll see you tomorrow, at the house...
"Well, Bethany, let's get you home. Jim is going to be so angry, I'm not sure I can face him."
"It's all right, John, you couldn't have known." Bethany tried her best to calm him down. She knew when her husband discovered what had happened, even the might of the United States Navy would not be able to protect those two men from his retribution. One thing she had learned, married to Jim all these ten years, was that he took nothing from anybody, anymore... not since Catherine's sad death.
"That's the problem, honey, I should have known." John knew it was going to be a long, hard afternoon waiting for Jim to return from Pearl Harbor. While he knew he wasn't afraid of Jim... he was. Watching the two sisters was the only thing he had to do today and he failed badly. He glanced at his watch, wondering how his best friend was going to react.
As they were leaving, Hoshito said he would send the food up to their house, no charge. He decided to add a pound of Hershey's kisses to the box. He locked the store and went to find a broom, muttering something in Japanese.
The sisters walked out of the store back into the warm September rain, a fitting end to their shopping trip: dirty, damp and sore...
It was late morning by the time they reached home in the hills above Popukea and anxiously waited for Jim to return from Pearl Harbor.
Following Bethany's directions, Eliza and John were able to wrap a new cloth bandage filled with ice around her wrist and then established a sling around her neck. She looked into the mirror and grimaced as her arm shifted.
Jim was going to be so angry, she realized. There had already been enough problems in Popukea between residents and the military interlopers, including several accusations of rape... as far as anyone knew, the Navy had done nothing about it, further angering the Hawaiians, including the Ewarts and the Franklins, as Hawaiian as any haole could ever be.
All afternoon, the sisters were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the inevitable.
"Oh, this is going to be miserable," said Bethany. "I don't know if I'll be able to help you with the work."
"Oh, no, you don't, sister. You're not getting out of it that easy. As a matter of fact, I bet you've been faking the whole thing." Eliza started to laugh, trying to diffuse the tension they all felt. "I'll let you set the table, how's that? You can do it one dish at a time."
They all looked at the wall clock... tick... tick... tick.
"Seriously, though, Jimmy is going to be so angry. It's a good thing he wasn't there. You saw what John did... imagine what Jimmy would have done. Those sailors would be dead right now and Jimmy would have a lot of trouble on his hands."
Bethany looked at her sister and nodded her head.
Early afternoon came and went; lunch was eaten in silence... and then the noise of Jim's '29 Chevrolet preceded his arrival from Honolulu by about fifteen seconds. Getting out, he expected his wife to be greeting him as she had done every time he had to leave without her.
"Bethany Rose! Where are my chocolate kisses?"
He approached the back veranda and was met by Eliza who was nervously wringing her hands as she started to speak. Her actions only worried him more. "Jimmy, there's been a little accident... she's all right; just a little sprained wrist is all."
"What?!!! Where is she, Liza?" Not waiting for an answer, he hurried into the house, calling for his wife and was waylaid by John. He put his hands on Jim's shoulders, trying to slow him down.
"All right, what happened, John?"
"Whoa, slow down, Jim. Bethany's OK. She's in the kitchen. We had a little incident down at the store. It's all... my... fault, Jim. I can't tell you how sorry I am." He looked at the floor, crestfallen.
Quickly, John gave a very vague rendition of what happened emphasizing his fault for not watching the two sisters more carefully. He didn't even mention his actions, he was so embarrassed.
He remembered that day at the beach near El Segundo. Jim discussed the two sisters with him and warned him never to hurt Eliza... and his carelessness today let Bethany get hurt... so much worse...
Bethany was sitting at the kitchen table, calmly drinking lemonade, waiting for the explosion she knew wasn't coming. He didn't think that way... he was much more dangerous than that.
She started to rise as he came into the large open room but he caught her before she could and knelt on the floor next to her chair.
"Bethany, baby, how are you feeling?" He hugged her carefully, wary of her bandaged arm.
"I'll be OK, just a few weeks, is all... Did John tell you?" She could feel him shaking. She used to think he was paranoid about the family's safety and would remind him they weren't in Los Angeles anymore. After all this time, he finally was right.
"Yeah... I'm sorry I wasn't there." He was kissing his wife, so frightened that he almost lost her. After Catherine and his daughters, he knew he couldn't live through that again... he just couldn't. He touched the white flower in her hair, gently brushing her tightly, curled hair.
"Well, John was and damn, that guy didn't even have a chance."
"What do you mean? The guy didn't even have a chance? What guy? John didn't say anything about a guy. What happened, Bethany? Tell me from the beginning."
Jim went to get a glass and carefully poured himself some lemonade, his hands shaking in frustration. He sat down to listen to his wife as she told him what had actually transpired in the store. Every so often, he looked at John standing in the other room talking with Eliza.
John noticed Jim's attention and his face reddened. Eventually, he went outside, seeking to escape his brother-in-law's irritated look and walked out to the relative privacy of the citrus orchard.
When early evening finally arrived, they were sitting on the veranda, holding hands and watching the sun sink on the horizon. "Guess I should have gone with you," Bethany Rose said, quietly. "Please, just take me to bed and make love to me."
At half-past-six, on Wednesday the 3rd, the noisy racket made by the old Chevrolet was heard as it struggled up the hill.
"He's got to get a new car or at least a new engine. I can hear him coming a mile away. At least, he's home," and then, she heard another car, a newer car. Instead of the expected 'I'm home,' there was an animated conversation, from the sound of their voices, between her husband and at least two others, a man and a woman.
"Sorry I'm late." He kissed Bethany and sat down next to her. "Hey, babe... I missed you and I've only been gone for a few hours. What am I going to do if it's longer?
"I'd like to introduce Lieutenant Commander Philip Hendricks and Lieutenant Anne Kearny. They're staying for dinner."
There was a mad scramble to set two more places on the table just as Eliza was bringing out the food. Bethany knew something was happening. Not quite sure what, but naval officers had never come to the office before.
Even with two guests, dinner was a quieter event than usual.
By nine o'clock that night, all the children were either asleep or in their rooms and Jim stood up.
"Well, I guess you girls have been wondering just why our two guests are with us tonight.
"Bethany... Eliza... John and I..."
"Hey, no you don't... don't drag me into this!"
Jim smiled at his brother-in-law. "As I was saying, John and I haven't been quite forthcoming about what we've been doing."
Whatever he was doing... he said it was 'consulting,' but what could he possibly have that the Navy wanted? This was so confusing, she thought.
He nodded toward the two officers at the table. "Bethany, I've been working in the Office of Naval Intelligence since 1937."
Bethany's glass hit the floor and shattered.
The room was deathly still; thinking Jim and Bethany should be alone, Eliza started to leave but John's strong right hand held her back. He leaned over and whispered to her, a surprised look on grew on her face and she sat down on the sofa facing the sea.
Ignoring what Eliza had done and only looking at Bethany, Jim continued. "I'm sorry that you, well, both of you... well, I have to say something, now, because things are going downhill fast and you both need to know what's going on before it gets out of hand and it's too late for explanations." He gestured at their guests standing off to one side.
"But... how? Why? What's going on, Jimmy?"
Both women were confused, Eliza more than Bethany. Except for that one night on the porch with the Klan and again at the market, John was always the 'quiet man.' Jim was the 'lively one' once Bethany Rose brought him back to life following the murders.
Maybe, she realized, too quiet; suddenly she remembered he had told the Shore Patrol he was at Belleau Wood and caught her breath.
The next day, she found a history book in Jim's den, read about it and cried for the rest of the afternoon. "Oh, my God," she gasped, knowing it was so, so horribly true.
Since Jim had arrived with his guests, his whole demeanor had changed. He sat straighter, was quieter and his usual silly, happy grin was missing.
Bethany could see his love for her, but there was also a newly discovered hardness that frightened her. Something had changed within him.
Jim nodded to the naval officer.
"Thank you, again, Mrs. Franklin, for this wonderful dinner. We know we just showed up but Commander Ewart said to come tonight."
Bethany Rose's mind raced... "Commander?" What was going on? Oh, Jesus, he wasn't working for the Navy... he was IN the Navy! Her spirits deflated as she began to recognize all the implications.
By midnight, the two sisters had a good idea of what their husbands were doing without knowing exactly what they were doing.
"How on earth did you ever become part of Naval Intelligence? I don't understand." Bethany looked at her husband... her husband who had kept such a secret all these many years.
"It's a strange story... Honey, I swear to God, I'm sorry I had to keep it hidden from you but that was one of the conditions I... we had to live with."
Before he could continue, she spoke. "But, Jimmy, six years? I'm really hurt. I... I'll talk to you later." She got up, left the living room and went to their bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Damn it! he thought. He had wanted to tell her from the beginning what was happening but couldn't. He didn't even want the job but when they showed him what was happening, he couldn't turn it down. He had family to care for. However hard it was for colored people in the United States, the Japanese would be infinitely worse if they succeeded in controlling the Pacific.
The others quietly went to their own rooms, leaving him alone.
He waited almost half-an-hour and then went to the locked door. "Bethany, please let me in. I can explain. It's not what it looks like..." he said, knocking softly on the door. God, he thought, did he actually say that?
"Go away, Jimmy, just go away."
There was no answer this time and he walked away, dejectedly. His aimless wandering around the house eventually found him outside on the veranda looking at the patio furniture.
Why was she reacting the way she was? He had no clue. Yes, he knew he should have found a way to break it to her but then she would do nothing but worry and he never wanted to make her worry about him.
Looking back on it, he realized, it was a stupid thing to do, regardless what the Navy wanted. He should have remembered his wife and children come first in any situation and yet, that was what he was trying to do. The only way he could feel confident he was protecting them was to do what he had been doing.
He sat heavily onto a patio chair and suddenly felt her presence. "Bethany, please talk to me. I know you're mad but... give me a chance to explain, please."
She stood there, still dressed from dinner, her face streaked with tears. He took her into his arms and held her, just as he had one day in Los Angeles... the day she refused to marry him.
"How, Jimmy?" She practically begged for an answer, wanting to find a way to forgive him for his secrecy. That was what hurt her, not whatever he was doing but that he couldn't seem to trust her enough to tell her.
"I know it sounds kinda dumb, now... after all, what would the Navy want with me?" By then, his right arm held her and she turned and moved to him.
"I thought you were a businessman working with the Navy."
"It started out that way... but then, someone read my book on the War.
"When Catherine and I..." He stopped, remembering that day they had arrived in New York City. "When we came back from Europe, I went to college and got a degree in business and one in Political Science. That's why I was able to write the book in some kind of intelligent manner.
"An admiral's aide read it after we moved here and I was already working with them and one thing led to another and here we are. Look, Bethany, I know it sounds stupid but the admiral read the book, four times he told me. He said he was impressed how I put together the hidden motives for the war.
"It wasn't that I didn't trust you, it was just that I didn't want you to worry about it and it was better that you just thought I was doing some kind of consultation or something. We're so hidden there that only a few know where we are and what we are doing.
"Please, forgive me for not telling you." He held her tighter, wishing that everything had just gone away and they were once again the only ones in their own private universe.
The next morning, he woke to find them both still dressed and sitting on the patio, his arms gently protecting her from the outside world as she had fallen asleep against him... at least, he hoped he could.
Jim didn't want to wake her so he lay holding her until she stirred.
Everyone was once again at the table... eggs, bacon, pancakes, orange and pineapple juice... light conversation... nervous glances... the faint rattle of silverware on plates.
Jim and Bethany walked outside to the uphill patio. He brought along a beach towel to cover the bench.
For a great while, they sat there, holding hands and staring out at the Pacific Ocean, ironically enough, looking in the direction of Asia... and with it, Imperial Japan and the death that waited just over the horizon.
Several times, she could tell he wanted to say something and then became quiet, again. She bided her time, knowing full well that he would speak when he had completely formed in his mind what he wanted to say. Early in their strange relationship, she found that when he spoke to her, he often was as tongue-tied as a love-struck school boy. She had learned to wait.
"Bethany, I'm going to be at Pearl more and more ... at least, until I can arrange something else..." He paused and looked into her eyes, delving into her heart and soul, "and I'm thinking you could be with me... at least part of the time.
"What do you say?"
She was taken off-guard. "What... what about the girls?"
"Eliza can watch over them while you're gone, maybe every other week. We could try it and see what happens... that is, if you want." He watched her eyes, the windows to her soul.
She was hesitant, not wanting to leave her girls behind but she didn't want to be without him, either. "We... we can try..." her voice trailing off again, wondering what the future was going to bring.
Something was happening.
Sergeant William Blake, USMC, looked at the sailor standing before him. In his opinion, a sorrier sailor in the US Navy did not exist. His disdain for seamen reached a new low with Reynolds.
"Reynolds, you stupid bastard, what the hell's the matter with you? Do you realize what you've done? Jesus Christ! You'll be lucky if all you get is put on report and transferred to Guam. You'll probably get serious time in the brig for this.
"Wipe that stupid grin off your face, you asshole!"
Spencer Reynolds, to the sergeant's surprise, didn't seem very worried about his situation. This perplexed Blake. The charges were severe and worse, from his point of view, completely, unequivocally true. There was going to be hell to pay.
Of all the people Reynolds could assault, the one he picked was probably the worst... only having sex with an admiral's wife could have been worse. He didn't know entirely who Commander James Ewart was but the telephone call from Nimitz lit a fire that refused to go out. Whatever Reynolds thought was going to happen, he was dead wrong.
Eliza and Bethany were hanging the laundry when they heard the insistent ring of telephone. The sisters looked at each other and then Bethany ran to the back veranda, but the caller had hung up. All she heard was the disconcerting hum of the dial tone.
A while later, it rang again and this time Bethany was able to answer it.
"Hello?" She was almost out of breath, having run to the phone again.
"Good morning. This is Sergeant William Blake, calling for Commander James Ewart. May I speak with him, please?"
"He's not here, right now. This is his wife, Bethany. I expect him back late this afternoon. Would you like to have him call you back?"
"Yes, say about four o'clock? My number is..."
"One moment, please... let me get a pencil and some paper."
When Blake hung up the phone he was confused. Scuttlebutt indicated Ewart had a colored woman living with him as a common-law wife but if that was her, she didn't sound anything like the colored women in Georgia. This woman sounded well educated with no hint of any accent. He decided to look into it, if only for his own interest.
Stationed at Fort Benning, whenever he had a pass to leave the base, he would seek out the colored whores in Columbus. For some reason, he found them more to his liking. They knew it was business and were willing to do anything if he paid them enough.
He hated Georgia. It was hot. It was humid. It had chiggers. Everyone drank warm Coca Cola and talked funny. It had been fun for about a week but then he realized he couldn't understand them at all.
Early Thursday, September 11th, following an incident with the USS Greer and U-652, President Roosevelt ordered the United States Navy to 'shoot-on-site' German warships, including the U-boats prowling the Atlantic. Even so, the president was unsure that Congress would vote a declaration of war and the country remained divided on whether or not to enter the war. The pro-German sentiment was countered by the newfound support from American Communists after Russia was invaded.
Jim didn't come home at all that night. He did call, she knew but was still disappointed that he wasn't with her.
On the afternoon of Wednesday, the 17th, their two young girls were in the citrus groves behind the house, playing in the trees planted the year the older one was born.
Now, almost ten years later, the orange and lemon trees were so much taller than she was and Ano'i strained on the ladder for that last reachable orange to share with Olina.
Their Hawaiian names, Ano'i, which meant 'desired,' and Olina, 'joyful,' were as symbolic of them living in Hawaii as much as their family breaking all ties with California.
Suddenly, hopping right before them was a huge gray-brown, ugly-green cane toad.
"Get back, Olina, get back. Don't touch it, it will kill us dead! Run!"
The barefoot girls ran for the house, screaming for their daddy.
Jim came out onto the veranda in time to have his daughters bowl into him and almost knock him down, his pineapple juice flying everywhere over his pants and the wooden floor.
While the younger girl, only five, continued to scream, the older one told him about the large toad that had come into the citrus grove.
"You did good, honey... take your sister into the house and ask your mom for a cookie. Go on, now..."
Laughing, Jim inspected his wet, sticky-sweet pants and then went around the house to the garage to get a shovel, finally heading out toward the orange trees, just as it started to rain, again. At least, he thought, I'll get my pants washed.
As much as he hated scaring his daughters, an inherent fear of the deadly amphibians was better that finding one of his girls dead.
A short while later, he returned carrying the dead animal on the blade of the shovel and then, lifting the lid of the trash can, dumped the huge eight-inch-long toad in. He didn't want to worry his daughters, but that was the third one he had killed in the last week.
The toads seemed to be everywhere and had been spreading throughout the island impossibly fast. In tropical Hawaii, the imported amphibians bred all year long, as many as twenty-thousand eggs at a time, all the tadpoles toxic.
The wretched animals had already killed the girls' shepherd, Buddy. The 120-pound dog had died a horrible death as the poison coursed through its body.
He scrubbed the shovel over a barrel for several minutes before putting a light coat of oil on it and hanging it back up on the wall. One of the chemicals released by the adult toads was similar chemically to heroin, causing hallucinations and death.
That was why he told his daughters to run as fast as they could from any of the dangerous amphibians they saw. He made sure that all of it was removed.
It was becoming time, he realized, for the territory to take a much more aggressive stance against the Central American import but with war clouds on the horizon, doubted it would happen any time soon.
"Damn cane toads," he complained. Just the same, he was proud of the way his older daughter handled the situation, doing everything he had taught her.
Ironically, both the deadly toads and the Ewart and Franklin families arrived in Hawaii at the same time in 1932.
"Bethany!" he called, removing his muddy shoes and walking into the house. "Where are you, baby?"
He found her in the kitchen, pouring milk one-handed into two glasses for their daughters. She offered her cheek for him to kiss.
"How are you feeling?"
"Ahh, Jimmy, it's getting much better. I'll get you a glass; you're just in time for some cookies. Sit down, honey. Did you take care of it?"
He looked at his young daughters, each holding an Oreo, wide smiles showing black crumbs between their teeth.
"It's gone... I'll take a look later today and see if there are any others or if this one just got here by accident," he said, with a mouth full of cookie. "If I keep eating these, I'm going to get fat. How's your wrist, right now?"
"It's actually pretty good. I guess it wasn't as bad as we thought."
He looked at his wife. The years had been more than kind to her. It was hard to imagine they had been married, living and loving in Hawaii for ten years. Where had the time gone?
At thirty-four, she had gained a little, who didn't? ...especially after two babies, but was more beautiful to him than the day he saw her standing on that street corner in Venice. Her dark figure had rounded out in just the right places for him and, he smiled, she gave him a very nice feeling when he made love to her.
She knew he loved her. The smile on his face every time he saw her made everything worthwhile.
He brought her to an emotional, sexual nirvana with his mouth. If anything, this last year they had made love more than ever before... until recently and something happened, she just didn't know what. It must be the tropical climate, she thought... tiring him out, she hoped... or, whatever was going on at Pearl. He was still reticent regarding his work.
Bethany came over and sat on his lap. Running her fingers through his now graying hair, she kissed him deeply and surprisingly, could feel his excitement growing.
"Why, Mr. Ewart..." she whispered. "What on earth do you have in mind? Something scandalous, I bet."
"Why, Mrs. Ewart, I was just hoping to show my appreciation for your chocolate kisses and cookies."
As soon as the girls left the room, he cupped her breast and kissed her chocolate neck. She shifted on his lap to better feel his arousal pressing against her.
"I am the luckiest man I know... a wife of sweet chocolate who loves me and two little girls of golden honey who adore me."
She whispered into his ear. "You know, tonight would be a great night to have some of those chocolate kisses you're always talking about and I've got some honey of my own for you." With that, she gave him a squeeze and stood up.
He stood up behind her, careful of her arm and nuzzled her neck. She bent her neck toward him as he moved his lips to that magic spot below the side of her chin and she could feel her body start to heat.
He remembered that Christmas Eve so long ago when she first came to his bed and freely offered him her love and her virginity. Although the sexual tension had been thick enough to be present every second of the day, that night was a romantic union of two souls rather than a wild, meaningless romp beneath the sheets.
"Jimmy, not now, the girls are awake. Oh, Jesus, Jimmy, I love you more than life, itself. Oh, yeah, right there, baby." He was arousing her more than any time in the last few weeks. Was it desire, love, need, lust? She didn't care, she wanted it.
She became still, realizing what she had just said. Damn it! I'm only 33 years old. I need it more than once in a while these past few weeks! ...and, I want it from him...
He inhaled her scent. He knew he was more than ten years older than she. He wondered how long he still had with her and his daughters. However long it was, he was determined to make them as happy as possible.
"For a... umm, a thirty..." He shut up, realizing that he was now treading on thin ice. "How old did you say you were, little girl? Seventeen, eighteen?"
"Oh, you flatterer... tonight, we'll see what you can do with a seventeen year old... try and keep up with me, dirty old man."
"Old man!?! I'll show you who's an old man." He began to mercilessly tickle her right below her waistline. Soon, though, his tickles became something else; he heard her give a little moan as she pushed back against him and then her body shook in his arms. "What do you say to a little nap time?"
She took a long moment before she answered, wondering if today would be different, if today he could love her like he did just a few weeks ago. She had to try.
"Just a minute, lover boy. I notice you didn't say anything about being 'dirty'." She walked onto the veranda; the two girls were playing with their dolls. "Girls, come into the house to play or color or something. Daddy and I are going to take a nap so make sure you are quiet."
Jim was locking the deadbolts on the doors and closing the bottoms of the windows. Turning on the fans, he said, "Don't answer the door or the phone. Later, we'll have pizza."
That, unfortunately for the anxious lovers, got the girls very excited and they ended up being put to bed in their room for their own nap.
"Now, you stay here until I come to get you, understand?"
"Yes, Daddy..." Both of them started to cry and he was trapped, as he knew he would be. Like their mother, his two girls were able to get anything they wanted from him. When it came to them... he was putty in their hands.
He sat down on the floor, hugged them and then kissed the tears on their honey-colored complexions.
"Mommy and Daddy are tired right now and we need to take a nap. You girls play in here, OK? Maybe... and that's a big maybe, we'll go to the beach later. OK? C'mere, give mommy a kiss."
He looked up in time to see his wife smiling and holding out her hand to him. She put her finger to her lips. "Shhhh..."
The two lovers went to their bedroom and closed the door.
Later, he spooned his Bethany Rose, his left hand draped over her waist, gently holding her breast, massaging her nipple. Kissing her shoulder, he shifted closer and felt his erection pushing against the back of her thighs as he ran his left hand down her waist and onto her thigh.
She pushed back, grinding her hips and moved forward, finally settling down on his face as he began to kiss and then insert his tongue deep inside her. His tongue moved around each lip, first the left and then the right and then deep into her heat as she bucked up and down against his head.
She braced herself with her free hand against the headboard and continued to press against her husband's face, placing her clit directly onto his open lips and began her moans as he closed his mouth and sucked it in.
He began taking in and then letting out her clit, over and over. After all this time, he knew the easiest, quickest way to bring his wife to completion.
Jim felt her start to quiver, then shake and finally bounce on his mouth. Each time she lifted, he took a deep breath and held it as she came down and ground herself onto his mouth and pushing his chin into her, spreading her, bringing her up and over and then off the edge.
Meanwhile, outside toward the back of the property, Eliza looked carefully at her husband. "Junior should be back by tomorrow."
"I hope that he learned something from all this. It's been five months, now."
"I know, I know... it was great Jim was able to get him that apprenticeship with that scientist. Who knew there'd be so much interest in coral reefs?"
John picked up a small piece of reddish basalt and threw it into the greenery. "Well, he better be able to explain it to me, that's all I'm saying. All joking aside, I really missed him but he was showing too much interest in the local girls around here and we don't need that, right now."
A few hours later, Eliza and John walked onto the back veranda, past the new propane refrigerator and then to the door. He grabbed the doorknob and tried to turn it, but it was still locked.
"That's strange... you got your key, honey? I forgot mine on the dresser this morning."
"No, it's never locked during the day. Maybe something's open. Do you think they took the girls somewhere?"
"I don't know, but we've got to get that birthday dinner started. I've at least four more pies to bake. I'm trying a new recipe."
They walked around the side of the house and noticing the bedroom window was open, approached. However, Bethany's moans and the squeaking bed told them it might be a long wait before the door was unlocked.
"Well, Liza, we've got three choices: we can knock on the window and ask them to open the door for us, but we'll probably get killed by Bethany; we can wait on the back veranda until they're finished, but you told me that that could be an hour or two they way they do it; or we could try and see if the kids can open the door."
"That seems the best. If we mess up their afternoon, there'll be hell to pay later." Eliza smiled, thinking of her own bedroom escapades with her fifty-year-old husband. "I don't understand how you old men are able to get it up, let alone keep it up for so long. Why, just the other day, Bethany and I were..."
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Chapter One: A New Master
She was a lovely thing, blonde hair so pale it was like silver, eyes so black they seemed endless voids of rage and resentment. Her skin was white as alabaster. She was a statue of a goddess brought to ...
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I posted this letter on the Internet for my husband to read while he was away on business.
I am posting this publicly because, you know, sweetie, I like to humiliate you.
I have a dinn ...
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Junie had barely come to live with her new owners when ugly reality intruded on their idyllic world. Her search for a Master had caught the attention of a serial killer and she had barely escaped being his next victim. He was caught and facing t ...
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(Disclaimer: This story is a work of fantasy; names and places are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Star Wars and all related characters are property of Lucasfilm Entertainment Company Ltd. *Please DO NOT repost without the ...
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This is the continuation of our journey into cuckolding. My wife, Laura, and I have taken our first, exciting steps on this path, and I wanted to share them with you.
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