Subject: Repost: Aerie (sp, M/F,con)
From: Kfry2k@aol.com
Date: 21 Feb 1999 16:42:47 GMT
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction containing adult themes. If you are not of legal age stop reading now. Any similarity between characters depicted in this story and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
The Quonset hut door closed behind Mike as he stepped into a deepening night, damp and a little chilly, typical of the English moor country. He paused briefly to light a Lucky, his face illuminated by the match flame as he cupped his hands around it. There were new lines in the normally handsome countenance, lines of weariness and concern; an inevitable product of combat. He could hear the music which continued in the officers' club behind him, the baby grand piano tinkling out "Pack up your Troubles", to the accompaniment of many voices. Taking a long puff on the cigarette, he blew smoke into the freshening breeze, feeling grateful that tomorrow the unit would stand down. Total overcast was predicted over the target, possibly for the next couple of days. His crew would get a rest, the mechanics could fix all the annoying little problems with the "Paddlin' Madeline", the B-17 bomber that was named after Mike's lovely wife. Making his way back to his sleeping quarters, he returned a sentry's salute, adding a polite smile.
The sleeping quarters were invariably stuffy, filled with the smell of stale tobacco, woolen blankets, canvas, leather, and coal fumes from the stove which provided warmth. Keeping his jacket on, he flopped down on his bunk, hands behind his head, staring up at the corrugated ceiling. Looking at his nightstand, he reached over to take the picture of Maddy that rested there, holding it above his face. It had been taken in their driveway one Sunday afternoon, Maddy leaning against the `40 Ford convertible, her hair full and long, the summer dress she wore clinging to the curves of her delightful body. Their black and white cat, Kilroy, sat placidly on the convertible boot, almost as if posing deliberately for the camera. Mike swallowed hard, the yearning tugging at his chest like it would pull his heart out.
"So beautiful..." he whispered out loud. "So very beautiful."
They were more than husband and wife. Theirs was a romance that found every day to be a new adventure, a fresh chapter in the story of their lives. Maddy liked to be spanked, just about as much as she liked to be loved, and Mike provided both activities in plenty, usually one right after the other. Setting the picture down, he turned on his side, eyes closing with the peaceful knowledge that tomorrow was a day off. The picture of Maddy looked down on him, watching over his snoozing form. Far off, the strains of "Lili Marlene" came from the officers' club, a sweet and sentimental song held over from World War I. Beyond the field perimeter, a disturbed Meadowlark joined in briefly, then resumed its sleep.
* * *
"Hey, wake up, sleepy-head!" Maddy cried, drying her hair with a towel.
Mike ignored her, rolling over in bed. It felt good to just lie there between the cool sheets; Saturday morning, lazy day.
"You promised to take me shopping, Micky dear." She admonished, standing over him, still rubbing her long blonde hair dry.
Still no response. Mike was playing possum, and Maddy knew it. Twirling the damp towel, she twisted it tight and snapped him sharply on the rump with a snapping sound that surprised even her.
"Owwww!" Mike yelped, grabbing his fanny and whirling over in bed. "You little gremlin!"
"Oops!" Maddy exclaimed, putting a hand over her mouth to hide the smile. "Sorry, dear."
"Oh, yeah?" Mike said menacingly, "Two can play that game!"
The adorable blonde, dressed only in her silk dressing gown, flipped the towel over his head, then grabbed a pillow and belted him with it. It took him a minute to get untangled from the bedclothes, but soon he was chasing his laughing wife all over the house. Practically hysterical, Maddy finally was in his grasp, hugging him tight as his hungry mouth came down on hers, passionately. His hands slipped under the satiny robe, sliding down her back and over her magnificent bottom, pausing to cup the full roundness, pulling her to him. The next second, he had her under one arm, dragging her back into the bedroom as she shrieked in mock fright.
"No! Micky! I'll be a good girl, honest! Don't, please!" her voice pleaded, unconvincingly.
He scooped the trusty old wooden hairbrush off the dresser as they passed, sitting heavily on the bed and dragging her across his lap while she kicked and protested vainly. Her robe was quickly flipped up, baring her delectable bottom for the kiss of varnished wood.
"Snap me on the rump, will you?" he scolded, "Let's see how you like it, you naughty girl."
He knew how she liked it, and gave it to her good, the hairbrush smacking the curves of her gorgeous bare bottom smartly, making her kick and squirm, writhing vainly across his lap as he spanked.
"Owww-wow! Ohh! Ahhh! Oh, Micky, please!" she wailed, looking back over her shoulder in distress as the hairbrush smacked her bare behind again and again.
Before long, her bottom was aflame, Mike pushing her over the edge into that place of passionate anguish that she relished so much. Maddy grew hotter with each stinging smack, even though she begged him to stop, feeling herself growing more excited with every passing second. When he ceased spanking, Maddy slid from his knees to the floor, her tear-stained face looking lovingly up at him. Fumbling with his pajamas, she drew him out, totally engorged now, and surrounded his manhood with her velvet mouth, pleasuring him with uninhibited ardor.
"Ohhhhhh!" Mike groaned, his head leaning back, eyes pressed tightly shut at the intensity of the sensations assaulting him. Caressing her hair, he moaned his love and appreciation.
"Maddy, oh God, Maddy! Ohhh, my God."
Sensing when he was at the brink, she ceased tantalizing him and rose, creeping onto the bed next to him, waiting on all fours, asking,
"Take me, Micky. Now, please, I need you inside me."
He obliged, penetrating her fully as her hand guided him into place. Long, slow strokes quickly turned into rapid, stiff thrusts as they both moaned together, totally lost in the dazzling pleasure of pure, animal sex. Climaxing nearly as one, they fell side by side afterward, to lie snuggled in each other's arms. Shopping would have to wait.
* * *
The ancient grandfather clock in the downstairs hall was about to chime three when Maureen Ryan awoke, suddenly, like someone had fired a shot in the room. She looked around, sitting up in bed, listening, but the house was still and dark. Rising, she crossed to the draperied window, looking out on the moon-splashed yard below, now all silvery highlight and shadow. Retrieving her bathrobe, she went down the paneled hallway to the study, the place where her long-dead husband had conducted his banking affairs and relaxed each day. Picking up the telephone, she spoke briefly, then waited.
"Madeline?" she said finally, breathing a sigh of relief, then smiling at the sleepy voice on the other end.
"I'm sorry, dear. No, there's nothing wrong. I just wanted to check on you. I couldn't sleep, and I was worried about you, what with Mike gone. All right, dear. You go back to sleep. I love you, too, dear. Goodnight."
Maddy's mom sat in front of the phone for a time, listening to the sounds of the old house; how it moved in its sleep, like the people in it. Funny how houses are just empty shells when uninhabited, taking on a life of their own when a family moves in, sharing their vibrance and energy, she thought silently.
Her hand moved to the worn leather address book which lay on the desktop. Her fingers quickly found the desired entry, and she once again picked up the phone. This call took nearly twenty minutes to complete, but she finally had the connection, albeit a weak one.
"Anthony?" she inquired.
"Maureen. What a pleasure! It's been far too long. How have you been?"
The stately British voice at the other end was easy, confident.
"I'm just fine, Anthony." She confirmed, biting her lip slightly. "Anthony? I need a favor, a really big one."
"Whatever I can do, my dear, you know that." The man said earnestly.
"There's a young man in your district, a bomber pilot..." Maureen said hesitantly, "My son-in-law."
Several minutes later, Maureen hung up the phone. Laying her hands in her lap, she reflected how valuable friends could be, even distant ones. She was tempted to ring for her maid, for a cup of warm milk, then decided to let the girl sleep, going down to the kitchen to make it for herself. Moonlight streamed into the darkened kitchen, bathing the shadowy form which sat at the table, slowly sipping warm milk. Wouldn't Maddy be surprised, she mused, smiling secretly.
"Scuse me, sir. This is for you." The orderly said, handing Mike a slip of paper.
Mike looked skeptically at the paper, then at the orderly for confirmation.
"Are you sure?" he inquired, eyes wide.
"Yes, sir. Oh-eight-hundred hours, sir." The young man affirmed, soberly.
"Very well." Mike replied with finality. "Thank you."
The boy had just handed him a three-day pass, which had come out of nowhere. With the group scheduled to stand down due to bad weather, it seemed like a wildly fortunate coincidence. More than that, there was to be a staff car at eight to take him to a nearby resort area. Something funny was going on, and he didn't know what, but in the Army you learn not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Glancing at his watch, he hustled off to his billet, he only had twenty minutes to pack.
The worn olive-drab staff car with AAF markings wound slowly through the English countryside, finally turning into a picturesque lane which led arrow-straight to a magnificent manor house. The car swung through a gate-house area and into a central plaza, dominated by a large stone fountain and well-tended garden. Mike whistled under his breath at the stately manor before him, sitting atop a knoll with grassy terraces leading down to the plaza itself. As he got out, he saw her, the light breeze rippling that familiar golden mane, her face rosy from the chill and her ill-concealed excitement.
"Maddy!" he yelled, both in amazement and delight. Vaulting up the stone steps, he met her partway, sweeping her up into his arms and swinging her around like a child, delirious with joy. Maddy was speechless, overcome at the sight and feel of her lover's arms around her again. Tears burst unashamedly out of her eyes, fountaining out as she bawled openly, squeezing Mike with all her strength.
"I was so afraid I would never see you again." She lamented, finding her voice at last.
For answer, he kissed her upturned face, ending with a long and passionate kiss on her waiting mouth, her soft, eager lips crushed against his own.
Maureen Ryan looked down from the leaded glass library windows, smiling at the re-united couple, feeling the love burn within her. Sir Anthony Ames' estate was the perfect place for them to spend some time, maybe their last time alone, she mused. An old friend, a man who had been more than a friend but less than a lover in her younger years, Sir Anthony was a high-ranking officer in the RAF. Pulling strings was easy, and if you had the power, what better use for it? Closing the drapes, she turned back to her benefactor.
"I won't forget this, Anthony. I owe you a great deal."
"Nonsense, my dear." The mustachioed man in uniform replied. "It is I who owe you so very much. This just defrays a portion of that debt."
Maddy sat on the edge of the bed, a magnificent four-poster of untold antiquity, brushing her lovely hair. The entire bedroom, or suite, rather, as it was enormous and well-appointed, spoke of wealth, power, and tradition. A warming fire burned in the fireplace, filling the room with dancing shadows and fragrant aroma. As Mike came to her, he took the hairbrush from her, laying it aside. There would be no spanking tonight. It didn't seem right, somehow, and Maddy didn't mind. Their tender love-making lent a vibrance to the room it hadn't felt in many years. It also provided the opportunity for something else to happen; something wonderful. As the fire burned low, a small ember began glowing deep inside of Maddy, an ember that would someday burst forth into the brilliance of a human soul. She didn't know it then, but something was about to be taken from her; something precious. God rarely takes without giving, however, and this night she received something in return; a gift of love and life.
In the two days that followed, they shared their thoughts and loved passionately, living on the edge, as they were. It wasn't permanent, but it was enough.
Standing at the railing of the ocean liner, Maddy turned to her mother, gazing out over the sea, her collar turned up against the chilly salt air.
"That was a wonderful thing to do, mother. Thank you." She said sincerely.
"Being a mother is something special, something I hope you'll discover for yourself, someday." Maureen said prophetically, putting an arm around her daughter.
"Let's just pray that he comes back to you; to both of us." She added.
The sea rolled on, endless, windswept waves; eternity in microcosm. The repeating cycle of life was concealed in its depths; its surface bore Madeline and her mother homeward, to continue their part in the cycle.