Goin' Down 1 Read online

  "Oh."

  Cord savored her tangy odor and slid his tongue around through her wet heat. Holding her lips open with his thumbs he stabbed his tongue into her vagina, licked her labia, and flicked her clit over and over. She came in a rush. Her legs jerked up and apart, her back arched. She lifted her head, her eyes glazed and unfocused. He slid up her body and slammed his dick into her. She was so wet he almost came then and there. Marietta's eyes lasered into his, and she pulled his head down for a ravenous kiss. Cord kissed her back, then lifted himself up on his arms.

  "Fuck me,” she whispered.

  He did. Slamming his hips against hers, he slid his dick in and out of her pussy. He watched the flesh of her breasts ripple and bounce every time he rammed home. His balls slapped her ass.

  Marietta reached down and fingered herself. Seeing her pleasure herself was worth slowing down. He pulled almost all the way out then pushed back inside, rotating his hips against her snatch and trapping her hand for a moment. The next time he backed away, Marietta made a tight circle with two fingers around his penis. He pushed through her grip before sheathing himself deep inside her, again trapping her hand between them. She wiggled her fingers. They smiled at each other and continued their slow dance until the pleasure built too high. Marietta threw her legs around him and grabbed his butt. He sped up but made sure he rubbed up against her most sensitive flesh. She came, her muscles grabbing his dick.

  Finesse be damned. Pistoning into her, he felt the pull on the flesh of his penis all the way to his asshole. He spurted into her and pumped his dick dry. Sinking back on his heels, he pulled her up into his arms, settling her on his thighs. His cock slid out into the cool air. Marietta was spread open and he could smell their combined sex. She took a deep breath and flopped her arms over his shoulders.

  "Are we there yet?” she mumbled.

  Cord laughed. Marietta Halsey was one in a million. Gorgeous, uninhibited, flexible, and willing. Great tits and cunt. He inhaled her scent and his dick twitched.

  "Is that what I think it is?” she asked.

  "Um, yeah. Sorry. He's insatiable."

  Slowly, Marietta sat upright balancing herself with her hands on his shoulders. Her hair was a sexy mess, her lips pouty and reddened from his kisses. She smiled and his dick jumped happily.

  "Goody."

  She leaned forward and kissed him. Scooting further up his legs she pressed her wet labia against his stomach. His stomach jumped happily. They savored each other. He gently massaged the cheeks of her ass. She inhaled sharply through her nose.

  "You like that?” he managed to get out.

  "Hmmm."

  "It's a very nice ass."

  She wiggled and lifted her butt.

  Laughing, he hugged her close. “Oh, Marietta.” He slid his hands to the end of her spine and lightly rubbed the last vertebrae. She rotated her hips, rubbing her juices across his stomach. He groaned and ran a finger between her buttocks. “May I?"

  She moaned. “Please,” she breathed into his mouth.

  She scooted higher. He sucked her tongue his mouth and got two fingers slick with her cunt juice. When they were nice and slick, he rimmed her hole and pushed a finger inside. She clamped down on him and wiggled. He fingered her, sliding in and out, stroking the tight muscle guarding her.

  "Hang on,” he said.

  She clutched his shoulders. Removing his arm from her waist, he reached underneath her and grabbed his erection. He couldn't resist a friendly squeeze. Positioning himself at her satiny entrance, he raised his hips and slowly slid his cock deep inside until he could feel it with his fingers stuck up her ass. Marietta's head dropped back and she breathed her appreciation. She put her knees on the floor, let go of his shoulders and sensuously kneaded her breasts. Her position squeezed his hand between her cheeks. Cord dipped his head and licked a turgid nipple. She raised the other one to his mouth and he licked that one. Laving her breasts while nudging his groin against her mons and stroking his dick with his fingers, he brought them both slowly, languorously to gentle, energy-conserving orgasms.

  Still comfortably joined, they slumped as their calisthenics denied them the energy necessary to move their sated limbs.

  * * * *

  Marietta hung all over him. Her arms draped across his broad shoulders, her legs rested on his muscular thighs. Her head nestled in the crook of his neck. She kept her eyes closed as she contemplated the last half hour.

  Horny due to extended celibacy. Masturbation usually satisfied but every now and then you need a young, hard cock. One look at Cord and she turned into a nymphomaniac. She didn't think Cord minded. He wasn't the first good looking man she'd encountered and flirted—shamelessly, she added—with. Most likely the youngest. And he was the first she'd actually fucked. Post-coital embarrassment reared its’ slimy little head but she smacked it down ruthlessly. Go away. I will not feel guilty.

  The tinny phone burped behind its door. Cord groaned out loud.

  Marietta smiled and kissed the side of his neck.

  "I'll get it,” she said.

  He held her in place with two large, calloused hands on her thighs. “Don't move."

  She smiled as she lifted her head. “Reality bites."

  She noticed that crooked little grin again.

  "So do I."

  Laughing, she disentangled her arms and legs, grabbed the side rail to haul herself to her feet, and reached for the receiver.

  "Yes?"

  "Marietta? Are you all right?"

  "Of course I am, Jessica. What could happen to me in an elevator?"

  Cord chuckled as he stood up.

  "Shh."

  He grinned as he stretched a kink out of his leg.

  "Are you shushing me?"

  "Not you, Jessica. We've been sitting on our butts for a long time and have to stretch out the kinks."

  "It's been almost an hour."

  "That long?"

  Cord raised his eyebrows, kicked up the corners of his lips and mouthed, just long enough. Marietta giggled.

  "I don't know what you find funny about this situation. I'm a nervous wreck. I've spoken with the Concierge, the Purser...."

  Marietta let her friend ramble on. Talking relieved Jessica's stress. And as much as she talked, she should be as relaxed as a warm, sleepy puppy.

  "Oh, wait."

  Marietta would wait all day. She watched Cord lean backwards to uncramp his back and hips. He bent forward and laid his hands flat on the floor. Marietta lifted her right foot, wrapped her hand around it, and stretched her own leg. Cord winked and grinned.

  "...a few minutes."

  Marietta blinked. “What's a few minutes?” she asked the phone.

  "Until you're released. Isn't that wonderful?"

  "Uh. Great. Good. Hey, gotta go.” She slammed the phone into the abused cradle. Her heart was pounding almost as hard as when she came the second time.

  "We only have a couple of minutes."

  Cord twisted his torso. “That'll be the day."

  The elevator lurched.

  Marietta squeaked. Cord froze. They both grabbed at clothes searching for their own. In their frenzy to get dressed, Marietta tried to put on Cord's jeans and Cord got a foot stuck in the handles of her tote bag. The elevator dipped. Marietta finally had the right pants on. Cord tossed her bra over her shoulder. She wrapped it around her middle and whipped it around. Cord hooked the back and finished buttoning his shirt while she pulled her shirt over her head. Marietta smirked at Cord's pants hanging open while he tucked his shirt in.

  She stuffed his shirttails down the back of his pants. He zipped up, trapping her hand against his backside. They were fumbling and grabbing at each other, laughing and giggling. Cord slapped his hat on his head. Standing straight, they faced the doors just as they opened. A small crowd peered through the doors.

  A young woman in a bridal gown leaped into Cord's arms. Jessica and Katie each grabbed an arm and pulled her out of the elevator. Between the talki
ng, laughing, assurances and thank you's, Marietta tried to catch her cowboy's eye, but he was surrounded by the wedding party, a crying bride and what surely were his parents.

  Good God. His mother looks younger than me.

  Katie hugged her, said prayers under her breath and explained how scared she'd been when they couldn't find her. Marietta hugged her back and met Jessica's suspicious look over Katie's head. Her good friend Jessica who scrutinized her with one lifted eyebrow. Marietta hated that eyebrow. Being one-eyebrowed by Jessica made her feel like she'd been sent to the principal's office and to confession. In a knee-jerk reaction, she tugged her blouse down. But she was a big girl and didn't answer to anyone she didn't want to. Holding her left eyebrow down with one finger, she lifted her right.

  Jessica shook her head and laughed, then hugged her and Katie. In the middle of it she said, for Marietta's ears only, “We'll talk later."

  "Yeah,” Marietta said. “Sure. Later.” Meaning whenever she felt like it, if she felt like it. That's what she told herself.

  The hubbub was dying down, the crowd was dispersing, and Jessica was herding her and Katie toward the stairs. Twisting her head, Marietta searched the area.

  Her cowboy was gone. Not a word, not a wistful gaze, nothing. The sneaky hurt feeling filled her heart before she realized it was even coming.

  But, well, like she'd said before, she was a big girl and didn't answer to anyone. Especially when no one was asking questions.

  * * * *

  Suite 1465 was spacious, beautifully decorated, and presently covered with piles of clothing, shoes, snorkeling equipment and paper streamers declaring Bon Voyage, compliments of Jessica's hubby. Humph.

  Marietta was undecided as to where she should put her three pairs of shorts. The first drawer on the right? Or the bottom drawer on the left?

  Katie, mumbling about matching panties, ripped open the first drawer on the right and stuffed a handful of lacy underwear inside.

  Bottom drawer on the left it is.

  Jessica bent over with a whoof! and put her t-shirts in the bottom drawer.

  Maybe the closet floor. No, Katie would bury them with her two-hundred pairs of shoes.

  She stood in the middle of the suite while Katie and Jessica bustled about unpacking and chatting about the upcoming cruise. All she could think about was her cowboy.

  "Marietta?"

  "Huh?"

  "Are you sure you're all right? Maybe the stress of being stuck in the elevator was too much for you,” Katie said.

  Marietta blinked. “What are you talking about?"

  Jessica grinned. “We've been asking you about doing the beach horseback riding tour in Jamaica. You love horses, don't you?” she asked slyly.

  "And cowboys,” Katie added unhelpfully.

  "Do you think Marietta likes horses more, or cowboys, Katie?"

  Katie looked at Marietta and thought. And thought. “Cowboys,” she finally said.

  "I agree,” Jessica said. “I think Marietta likes cowboys a lot more than horses."

  Katie looked from Marietta to Jessica and back. “She doesn't want to go horseback riding?"

  Jessica laughed. Even Marietta laughed. Katie's clear-eyed confusion was her best defense against unwanted expectations.

  "I love cowboys, I love horses, and I'd love to go horseback riding."

  "Oh. Well, that's good then. Can I use the middle drawer?” Katie asked in a swift change of topic.

  Jessica chuckled. “Yes, but hurry. It's almost time for the lifeboat drill."

  * * * *

  "Cord, I can't believe you got stuck,” his sister, the bride, wailed.

  He rolled his eyes with annoyed affection. “It wasn't exactly life threatening, Mary Ellen."

  "But you were so brave."

  "Was it scary?"

  "I'm fine, Roberta.” Everyone was milling around, including his sister Roberta, patting his back, trying to comfort him. It would have been wonderful, life-affirming even, if he hadn't just had the best sex of his life. They thought he needed warm milk and cookies when what he really needed was a cigarette and a nap.

  His entourage arrived back in the Crown Ballroom where the reception was held. Cord walked in and was immediately surrounded by more friends and family.

  "The Captain came down and explained what happened. You all right?” his brother Mason asked.

  "I'm fine. What's the hurry?” he asked, watching people gathering up their things.

  "They're about to sail."

  "What do you mean they're about to sail?"

  "The whole elevator thing delayed departure. Now that you're out, the ship is sailing and we're getting the boot."

  Cord glanced around. Everyone was there but Marietta. He turned.

  "Marietta."

  He'd lost her. His woman. How could he have walked off without saying anything? She probably thinks I'm the biggest sleaze on the face of the earth.

  "I have to go back.” He spun on a boot heel and bumped into a man in a ship's uniform.

  "Sir, the exit is that way."

  "No. I have to go back to the elevator."

  "Did you leave something behind?"

  "Uh, no, not really."

  "Then I'm afraid you'll have to leave with the other wedding guests, sir. The ship is about to sail and running behind schedule."

  "But—"

  "Cord, whatever is the matter now?"

  His mother, flanked by his older sister and her husband—the two dispatched to the elevator—crutched her way to his side. Not even a broken foot could keep her from her only daughter's wedding. Roberta had told him their mother thought it very entertaining for her middle son to get stuck in an elevator during his little sister's wedding.

  "I have to go back to the elevator. I, uh, there's a..."

  "I'm sure it has something to do with a woman, and I'm sure I don't want to know anything more about it. Now, let's go. We've held up the honeymoon long enough.” She glanced to her right and Cord saw his baby sister sucking face with her new husband. He squashed the instinct to smash in his new brother-in-law's face.

  "Let's go, Mom."

  "Gladly."

  Half an hour later he stood at a large plate glass window in the cruise terminal and watched as the ship carried the woman he wanted—again and again, and again—down the channel and off into the sunset.

  Damn.

  "What is up with you?"

  Cord didn't even look at Mason as he answered. “I'm in love."

  "With a ship?"

  "With a woman, you moron."

  There was a beat of silence. “You dog, you. The broad in the elevator?"

  Slowly, Cord angled his head. “Broad?"

  "Okay, okay, take it easy. But it is the one you were stuck in the elevator with for an hour, right?"

  Cord gazed at the sailing ship. “Yeah. How am I ever going to find her again?” he mumbled.

  "You are way gone, dude. You know exactly where she'll be in seven days. Right back here."

  Cord blinked. “You're right. You're right!” He grabbed his annoyingly clear-headed brother and gave him a hug and a thump. “Thanks.” Cord let go and trotted after the rest of the family.

  "You're welcome,” Mason said as he rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder.

  * * * *

  The third day saw Marietta on deck. Katie was taking line-dancing lessons and Jessica was—what else?—shopping.

  Marietta was brooding. Her tea was untouched and cooling rapidly in the sea breeze. The cheesecake was history.

  "May I bring you something else, ma'am?"

  "I'm fine.” Normally cordial and welcoming to people offering to serve her, Marietta gave the waiter a smile to diffuse the bite of her answer. It was the ma'am that had her thinking of Cord.

  As if she needed a trigger to make her think of him. He hadn't been out of her thoughts since he'd walked away from the elevator. Tempted to go after him, she'd been inadvertently reminded of the don't-look-too-eager rule of att
racting men by Jessica and Katie dragging her off in the opposite direction. But she'd looked. Cord hadn't. That hurt, and the fact that it did confused her. He was just a one-elevator stand. Forget him.

  She couldn't.

  She'd been wanton, wild, and supremely satisfied. She'd never acted so, so, needy. That was it. She'd been needy and a great looking stranger had taken pity on her. Pity. That hurt worse than him walking off without so much as a good-bye.

  "That was fun!"

  Katie plopped into the deck chair beside her. She was one of those women who didn't sweat, she glowed. Her olive complexion, jet-black hair and dark brown eyes belied her sixty-something years. As did her energy level.

  "How do you look so good after dancing for an hour?"

  "I love to dance. Gets the juices flowing."

  Marietta didn't want to hear about juices or flowing.

  "Where's Jessica?” Katie asked.

  "Shopping."

  "Where are you?"

  Marietta glanced at her sometimes ditzy friend. “What do you mean?"

  "You've been morose since you got off that elevator. Jessica and I discussed it and I think you were traumatized by getting stuck in a small space. Maybe you're slightly claustrophobic and being terrorized by being closed in for so long has triggered your claustrophobia."

  "Katie—"

  "Many people live for years without knowing they're afraid of something. Phobias can also develop in adults without rhyme or reason, but you have a reason to be claustrophobic by being trapped, without hope of rescue—"

  "Katie—"

  "—for hours and hours—"

  "One hour."

  "—not knowing when, or if, you were ever going to get out—"

  "Katie!"

  "Hmm?” Katie looked up, finally focusing on the present.

  "I'm not claustrophobic."

  "There's no need to be embarrassed."

  "I'm not embarrassed."

  "Embarrassed? Who's embarrassed?” Jessica asked, setting several bags on the table and sitting down. “Surely not Marietta."

  Marietta slumped in her chair.

  "I was telling her there's no need to be embarrassed about being claustrophobic,” Katie said.