| Sample
Chapter For THE MEAD STEED by Rusty Wicks
Rose dropped her jeans on the white t-shirt,
slid her lacy blue panties down to her ankles, then kicked them on to
the top of the pile of sweaty, greasy-smelling laundry. After sticking
her hand under the shower spray, she stepped into the tub. Heaving a sigh
of relief as the warm water washed over her, she reached for the loofah
and squirted a generous dollop of body wash onto the sponge.
“Damn, that place reeks. I don’t think I’ll
ever be able to eat another french fry for the rest of my life—not
even if I live to be a hundred,” she muttered as she began to scrub
her body clean of the foul stink of hamburgers, fried food and stale coffee.
After working the lunch crowd at the diner, the only thing
she yearned for was a long, hot shower. Which was good—since it
was the only thing waiting for her when she retuned to the house she shared
with her husband.
As usual, Jake wasn’t anywhere to be found. He had
probably stopped off to have a beer—or two or ten—with the
guys. But that…well, that wasn’t unusual. Jake had a habit
of visiting the town’s watering hole after his shift was finished.
He and the rest of the road crew practically had monogrammed bar stools,
they were in the tavern so often.
As she washed her long, curly brown hair, she felt the
strands begin to lose their coating of cheap vegetable oil. The oil clung
to everything in the diner’s kitchen, and as she rinsed the first
round of shampoo out she wondered, not for the first time, if there wasn’t
somewhere she could work that didn’t involve such a rancid odor.
It wasn’t until her hair and body had been scrubbed twice that she
felt human again.
“I hate that place.” Rose’s voice echoed
off the wet tile walls, a silky sound that made the empty apartment feel
less lonely. She snorted. “The Diner. God, could it be any more
ridiculous than that? How could anyone be so unimaginative? Naming a diner
The Diner—jeez, it’s like calling a church The Church or saying
The Store, The Gas Station…”
Beneath the warm droplets Rose’s hands traced a
familiar pattern on her lean body. The routine never varied and she didn’t
even realize what she was doing until her nipples hardened beneath her
fingertips. A glance downward confirmed her feelings. Her body had reacted
instantly to her touch. It demanded a kind touch, even if it was her own.
As long as someone was prepared to attend to its needs, it was ready to
comply.
With the tips of her thumbs Rose massaged scented soap
bubbles across her taut nipples. Enjoying the tingling heaviness, she
palmed her breasts, holding them as if she was weighing fruit at the market.
A smile played around the edges of her mouth. She knew
she’d never be doing this at the Shop ’N Save.
Sliding her left hand down her flat stomach toward the
spot between her long legs that begged to be touched, she thought longingly
of the handsomest man she knew. Closing her eyes, she thought of his hard
body and envisioned how he would feel pressed up against her, fitting
himself into her, riding her until she exploded with the waves of pleasure
that she imagined only he could give her.
Rose spread her legs, arched her hips forward and ran
her fingers through the curly tangle of hair that covered her sex. She
ventured into her slit with one finger only, tantalizing herself with
the first tender touches for a long moment. When she felt the first tremulous
tingles of pleasure she groaned.
“No…not yet. It’s too soon.”
With one hand Rose adjusted the spray so it fell in soothing
bursts on her hips and, most importantly, on her pussy. She reached for
the bottle of body wash, tipped it and deposited a fat, creamy drop on
her palm. Working the drop into a frothy lather, she wondered how it would
feel to have his slippery hands on her body.
The water washed over her clitoris in smooth, soft waves
and she imagined it was his lips, his tongue, that lapped at her so gently.
Another groan, a low, throaty sound that was more animal
than human, left her body. It was time. She loved—and hated—this
moment. But it was, sadly, the best part of her day. It was the only instant
when she was truly loved, and she knew that.
It didn’t matter that the water was running cooler
now. She wouldn’t need it much longer anyway.
With practiced ease Rose parted her outer lips, exposing
her clit directly to the water’s touch. It jumped and she rubbed
it roughly now. The water hitting her felt like a current that pulled
her deeper with each drop.
Her finger, the one with the plain gold band on it, found
its way home. Strong inner muscles tensed before they allowed entry to
the welcome intruder and she buried it deeply within herself. Rose imagined
it was his cock in her, throbbing and heavy.
Her fingers worked furiously in the dance steps that took
her places no one else had ever taken her. The spot where bright light
flashed in her head and her body turned to fire. The one point she had
yet to share with another—except in her dreams.
The intensity of her climax made her legs rubbery and
she backed her shaking body up against the tiled wall for support. Her
finger was still buried in her slick center but her legs were no longer
spread. Instead they were clamped firmly shut, as if to contain the last
few pounding waves of pleasure.
Rose let her fingers find their own way. She fingered
her clit, smiling as it responded instantly. Slowly she started to pull
the finger from her vagina. The tight tug at the entrance told her she
was welcome to stay for a bit longer, stay inside the warm, wet deepness,
stay where it was so often empty and lonely. Rose pushed her finger back
up a fraction and considered a second round of gratification.
After all, what’s the harm? It’s not as if
anyone else wants to make love to me. God knows my own husband can’t
be bothered giving me any satisfaction—in or out of bed. So really,
why not?
But the cooling water stopped her. That, and the realization
that she came home from her tedious job every day and masturbated in the
shower while thinking erotic thoughts about the only man who could make
her wet.
The fact that she fantasized about her boss, coupled with
the knowledge that she and Jake hadn’t had sex—at least not
with each other—in over a year made her turn off the faucet with
a firm snap. A snort of disgust replaced her delicious groans as Rose
stepped from the shower.
* * * *
Jake lived up to her expectations of him. When he finally
rolled into the tidy ranch house, Rose was already tucked between the
sheets with the lights out. She pretended to be asleep—not because
he would want to have sex with her if he knew she was awake. Years of
experience taught her that wasn’t on his beer-fogged mind. No, Rose
simply couldn’t stand the thought of watching him stumble around
drunk before he tumbled into bed.
So she settled for listening to his shuffling bedtime
routine. It was something she knew well. It happened every night.
Her husband’s drinking problem became apparent shortly
after they returned home from their honeymoon trip. It was as if Jake
had changed into another person after they were married, as if he felt
secure enough to show the unattractive side of himself to her once she
had a ring on her finger.
Now Rose felt trapped by the ring. By their marriage.
By Jake’s very serious problem. It made her feel selfish but she
wished she had known earlier about Jake’s obsession with the bottle
before they had gotten married. Before she found herself in a dead-end
job, living a lonely life, feeling unloved and unwanted. She wished she
had known—she would have never married him if she had seen even
a hint of what the future held for her.
But it was too late. Rose hadn’t known.
During her afternoon break the next day, Rose talked with
her best friend Tabi about the situation. It was a familiar conversation,
but Tabi was a willing ear and Rose felt some relief at the other woman’s
words. Validation has its benefits.
“Again? He came home drunk again?” Tabi flicked
a lock of her short blond hair out of her eye and reached for her diet
Coke. “You should kick his sorry ass out of the house. How long
can you put up with this crap anyway?”
“Not much longer,” admitted Rose. It was the
truth. She couldn’t go on feeling unloved, not for the rest of her
life. Better to be alone than in a marriage that made her so miserable.
Tabi said the words she had said many times. And meant
them, too.
“Stay at my place. Leave him to his bottle and stay
with me while you get yourself together. You’re welcome to stay—for
as long as you need to stay. You know that we’d love to have you
with us.”
Rose did know she would be welcomed into Tabi’s
house, surrounded by Tabi’s three kids and homely-but-considerate
husband, Jeff. She knew the spare room in the already crowded little household
was hers for the taking. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to accept
the offer.
“No, thanks. I’ve got to do this on my own.”
“How’s it going, ladies?” Bradley, the
owner of the diner, asked as he walked from his office to the men’s
room. They watched him push open the heavy door with one broad shoulder
while he unselfconsciously reached for his fly.
“God, he’s one hunk of man, isn’t he?”
Tabi shook her head. “If I wasn’t a married woman, I think
I’d go on in there and help him out, you know?” She grinned
as Rose gasped. That had taken her mind off her troubles!
“Tabi! You’re too much. How can you say that?
You’re a married woman, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember all right.” Tabi shifted
on the vinyl seat. “After last night, it’s impossible to forget
I’m married. That Jeff…sometimes he’s as frisky as he
was on our honeymoon. And believe me, I’m grateful for that. But
don’t tell me I can’t think, can’t imagine what another
man’s like…hell, honey, you’ve seen Bradley. Don’t
tell me you’ve never considered what it’d be like with him?”
Rose knew she had more than considered what it would be
like to be with Bradley. The thought of him holding himself, just a room
away, was enough to make her moist. Yes, she had lusted after him for
some time now, but she wasn’t about to admit that fact to anyone.
Not even Tabi.
The knowledge that she had been masturbating with Bradley
as her fantasy partner was enough to push Rose closer to the decision
she had been putting off making for a long time. Far too long.
In that instant, as the toilet flushed and Tabi grinned
wickedly, she made up her mind. Once the resolution was made, Rose felt
a calmness seep into her like none she’d felt since before her marriage.
And that was enough to solidify her determination.
Reviews For
THE MEAD STEED by Rusty Wicks
5 Angels, Reviewed by Marlene, Fallen Angel Reviews
“The Mead Steed by Rusty Wicks is a witty contemporary
erotic romance. The sex is hot and the characters are all likeable. This
is one of those feel-good stories that makes you remember that everyone
isn’t perfect. Overcoming differences, building relationships and
finding happiness are the themes in The Mead Steed. Rusty Wicks has shown
us that everyone deserves to love and be loved, even if that means working
hard to find it. I was charmed and entertained by The Mead Steed.”
4 Enchantments...
"In my honest opinion, The Mead Stead was far too short. The characters
of Tom and Rose were just so real and so human – and that is very
rare in a romance novel or a novel of any kind these days that I was very
happy for them that they got there chance at a new start together. But
I was disappointed that it had to end for the readers so soon. Overall
well done, Rusty, very well done."
Karen, Enchanting Reviews
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