You Made a Difference

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You Made a Difference

1

Brett studied his reflection in the mirror as he shaved, drew the blades of his special wet-shave razor over his hard jawline, his lean face to be seen as he worked. The shower had done him some good after another restless night. He sure couldn’t blame Donna for finally leaving him. In no time, it seemed, she’d hooked up with someone else. That affair must have started a while back and with someone to take up with if life with him had become too tough to endure. She didn’t fool around, least of all when she knew he was home.

His time in the Corps was long over but is body sure bore the scars, the worst ones that did it for him the effects of an IED when he’d been in Iraq, the searing strips of metal tearing through him and into him as if his Kevlar body armour was but a thin cotton vest. He’d counted himself lucky to have gotten through. Many of his buddies in the squad had not.

He’d tried to pick up on so many pieces of his life after he’d been mended but what was to be seen on his skin was nothing like what had been done to his mind. He’d often find himself weeping when working out in the yard, just tending to the grass and the few plants and shrubs that he and Donna had put in when their Houston home, an echoing single storey place, had been bought and when they thought kids might be born to them.

That hadn’t clicked for them either.

He worked as a logistics manager for a local trucking company, and he had his moments dealing with the nightmare that came with discovering stowaways. He had seen the despair in folk’s eyes often enough, when deployed, to know what was at work in them. They wanted a chance and to find a place of safety. He was childless, but he met kids often enough who’d been dumped and had, somehow, to fend for themselves.

He and Donna had helped where they could. They had gone out on a limb and given cleaning work and household chores to a woman and her teenage daughter, and they had helped in getting the authorities to accept an application for citizenship and make their lives here ‘legit.’ They could then move on, just as he now had to do with his life; now that Donna had packed her gear and gone.

The house would have to be sold and his familiar props would go along with that, the money that was raised after the loans had been paid off divided up between him and Donna.

‘Then what?’ he growled as his reflection was studied and he nodded. His face was smooth, his brown hair cut short, and his blue eyes stared back at him. He carried no weight; burned that off in a daily exercise routine. He’d sure like to be doing that for someone other than himself alone.

2

Brett cleaned up and rubbed some after shave ointment over his face, just to moisturise his skin. It was lightly scented but not so much anyone would get to thinking he was obsessive in these ways.

‘Who can that be…I’m not expecting anyone?’ he muttered. The front door chimes echoed through the house. He soon tugged on a pair of jeans and rushed to answer the door, still stuffing his T-shirt into them and tugging tight his belt as he opened it.

‘Hey…Lucia!’

‘Si, it is me señor Walker…’ she smiled in response to his broad grin of welcome. She’d heard the surprise in his voice, saw from his look upon her that she had judged what to wear just right.

Brett soon stood aside to let her in, the maid-service that Donna used had appeared on his doorstep on her day off, so something was on her mind.

‘This is a surprise. It’s as well I am on a late shift, or I’d have missed you looking like that,’ he told her only too directly, his stilled look taking in how she was dressed.

Gone was the workaday shift dress that shaped her, that would have him see her slender legs and dainty feet in her workaday white shoes; all of it the uniform that the agency insisted their cleaners wore.

She was wearing a halter neck top under a flowing white blouse, the colour of her top matching her ecru coloured linen trousers and her sandals loosely strapped at her ankles. Brett wiped a finger over his lips to stifle a sigh of brazen, sudden longing for her. He rarely saw Lucia around the house when she had been called in by Donna and he’d done nothing to cancel the contract but had, instead changed her times of attendance so that it fitted in with his day plan.

He had not reckoned on the effect this Latina woman would have on him. She, who now gazed overtly at him, would see the deep scarring on his arms and that the T-shirt failed to fully conceal.

He held his arms out, turned them so that she could really take in what that IED had brought on him. ‘The war I was in did that to them…to my body as well. The señora did not like to see them…’

‘But she is gone now,’ she said certainly, her voice low. ‘I decide to come here and say thank you…for what you did…the señora too…but you most of all. I get my papers at last. I am legal…can stay her and not worry anymore.’

‘I never thought of you otherwise, Lucia…that you did all that was necessary Ofise Gelen Escort to be legal.’

He chose to walk into the kitchen area and soon tugged open the fridge door. He poured, without asking what she wanted, two measures of fizzy orange juice into large glasses, then added some ice from the dispenser set into the door for good measure.

To his surprise she pushed away her blouse, brazenly stood before him in that halter-neck top that shaped her. It sure git to him to see her like that, inflamed his senses. The soft ecru colour of it, and her slacks, went so darn well with the silken smooth colour of her skin, the tumble of her glossy black hair that she had tied in a woven tail at her neck and its frizziness a captivating draw to the eye. He was taken by everything about her. She surprised him by leaning closer and sliding her fingers over his arms and caressed the scars.

‘I do this now…’ Lucia brushed fingers over his cheek before planting a solitary kiss on his cheek, before Brett could react. ‘You…you are mended now, señor…in that at least.’

‘And you’re here to thank me for the residency permit…and…and nothing more?’ he smiled in some confusion.

‘I wanted you to know that I have cared about you…but could not speak of it. So, I give you a kiss…’

She loved the raw vitality of the man she’d seen about the house, on the rare occasions that had happened, his lean body and strong arms, scarred as they were, his greying hair still cropped short at the temples and sides of his head. It was brushed back at the top and revealed a slender face, furrowed brows and a strong mouth under a long, straight nose. She had seen the pictures of the man in his uniform and had known that he was not a man to rile; also that he was a man who hurt and carried the scars in and on that tended body.

‘That kiss should not have an answering kiss…from me,’ Brett told her and taking a step away. ‘I’m kinda sorry…’

‘Meaning you think about it…while I stand here with you? Are you sure there’s to be no return kiss?’ She flirted brazenly with him. ‘What you have done for me needs a special thank you.’

How Lucia looked, how she now slicked her lightly glossed li[s with her tongue sure wound his clock. He could feel his prick stirring, get hard, felt the knot of longing for the woman before him and what she would bring to his sight and touch. He scarcely knew her and had passed only too common moments with her, mostly in Donna’s company.

‘Afraid so,’ he now said.

‘But comfort and company also have a value, señor…’

‘Brett…you’d better call me Brett. We’re way past the rest of it…’

Lucia drew near once more and brushed her fingers over the scarred skin of his arm. She saw him look away before Brett darted a lingering glance upon her, could not mistake how her breasts strained at the fabric of her cami top. She walked everywhere she could, ate sparingly, and she had made sure that she had lost some weight; lost enough to have a slender figure that made her breasts look larger, fuller. Brett’s woman, or past woman, had given her the idea. The look of his eyes on her sometimes had done the rest.

Lucia leant against the countertop and gazed at him wonderingly, over the rim of her glass, how she did so soon making him take in her appearance and then to her questioning smile. All of this was made so much more inviting by the soft glossy red lipstick she had carefully applied, her teeth, when she smiled, a blaze of white.

‘I…I look okay, no?’ she asked, brazenly.

‘Yeah, you sure do…and I’m wondering why…why now?’

Jeez, how he wanted to kiss those lips, to hold those breasts in his hands and plug that fleshy body and lose what he had into her and do that so deep. He wanted to erase thoughts of Donna and her walking out on him. He was as free as his mind would allow him to be.

‘I dress differently…did that for you, Brett. We can each give something to each other…de valor…for what has happened.’

Brett wondered what the price would be, what he’d have to pay in some way for taking her to bed. He wanted the young Latina woman before him, she shaped so beautifully, in that top that showed no signs of her wearing a bra. The sight of her sure inflamed his senses. Lucia even read what was in his eyes as she saw his gaze drift over her, and she moved and stood only inches away and kept his unwavering attention upon her.

He had to clear his throat twice before he could talk. The ache in his belly, the hard swell in his pants sure told him what was beyond price to him in his present circumstances. He sure hoped that the sight of his scarred body wouldn’t change her mind if they got that far, shucked off their clothes and shared the heat.

‘And what is of value to you now?’

‘Toca me…touch me…share with me in a kiss.’ she answered and saw Brett nod, his breaths hot on her lips as she looked up at him. ‘Let me know what you feel…’

Jeez! She knew how to work him.

Brett drew Otele Gelen Escort her to him and felt Lucia slip her arms around his body then over his skin under his T-shirt. ‘You sure are someone else…kept this hidden from me.’

‘And I feel the man that you are…strong and wounded…but so alive.’ She met his kisses, moved and closed her eyes as he bent to press his mouth to the tumble of her breasts, squirmed as she felt his lips clamp on their swell then to her nipples. ‘Quiero cogñar…how you say?’

‘You want to fuck with me,’ he murmured, ‘I sure got that message…”

The boundary would be crossed, the tenuous hold on restraint was to be broken. His control snapped, and he pushed one hand through her hair, felt its silken thickness run through his fingers as he drew her to him before their mouths crashed against each other’s and their lips parted, and tongues darted and performed a dance. She was soon sucking on his flickering tongue, her hands under his t-shirt and on his skin, feeling the scars and feeling the strength in his lean body. The man sure wanted her, his prick pressing against her belly and she keeping the man to her.

‘Si, I want to fuck with you…end the emptiness I feel there! I know you…the man you are…and that I will be safe!’

3

Brett took his time. He had become instantly addicted to the woman in his arms; deepened his kisses and coaxed her to push her tongue into his mouth once more. He heard their snorts of discovery as they sucked on each other as if in a dance.

‘Ai…aiee, mi fuerte!’ she gasped. Lucia looked down to where her hands had gone and now cupped and squeezed on his trousers. She heard a soft gasp as she worked him, met his hooded look upon her. ‘You…you will break me with what you have.’

‘Don’t you go worrying about that…there’s time to take it slow…for us to get used to what’s happening…’

He was already so hard, and he had yet to touch her intimately. His hand left her cheek to trail down the side of her neck, just grazing her breast lightly and avoiding her nipples completely. He held her fleshy waist and trembled. The woman possessed a tended voluptuousness and filled his hands with flesh that Donna lacked and had so obsessively avoided putting on.

He stroked down, over her hips and ass; wondered if she had any panties on. His hands hooked under her buttocks and Brett lifted Lucia to him. She soon got the idea and wrapped one, then the other leg around his waist. His fingers pressed against her, and she met his touches, gasped through their kisses.

‘Yes…yes touch me there…find me there!’ she groaned, her lips pressed to his neck, clinging to him as Brett carried her down the hall and into his bedroom.

He put her down on his bed and yanked of his T-shirt in haste, ignored her restraining, questing touches to what was revealed and heard her sharp intakes of breath.

‘I am who I am…!’

‘Si, and I want that man!’

Her fingers trembled as she worked the belt and button on his pants; was eager to see the man naked before her and then she’d undress for him. Finally, Brett kicked away his pants and she gloried in his lean body, in the tone of his muscles and that prick straining at the thin jersey fabric of his boxers.

‘Your turn…’

Si…in a moment,’ she smiled coyly, looking up at him. ‘You…you feel that way for me?’

‘It sure ain’t an act!’

Brett clenched her wrists as she worked on him, through the material, stroking him feverishly from base to tip, squeezed on his sac rhythmically and her hair brushing his skin. Her tongue now slicked the domed tip of his penis before she slid her lips over it, no more.

Brett hissed out encouragement through his teeth as her touches found him. The polite maid, or house cleaner was working him like a whore; was brazen and only too purposeful.

‘Undress for me…do it now!’

His hands pulled the hem of her cami-top and he jerked it up, over her head. He gave her no respite as his mouth fell upon her naked breasts as he saw them tumble to each side. His rough hands pulled them together and lapped his kisses over them; nipped kisses to their tips and heard her gasp, felt Lucia fumble for her trouser fastenings, behind her back; left her body open to his claims. She shuddered on feeling his mouth on her, his questing hands on her naked buttocks as her trousers were pushed down and his kisses following their faltering progress before he buried his face between her legs and lapped in long strokes of his tongue over her pussy; flickered the tip into her, Lucia bucking her hips to meet these claims, Brett’s hands pushing her legs wider so that he could take his pleasure.

‘On the bed…hombre!’

Lucia stumbled away but was made to turn. Brett pushed and she fell back on the covers, parted her legs, instinctively, as he knelt between them. Brett bent forward and tugged open a bedside drawer; and soon gripped the condom packet in one hand as he resumed in claiming her.

‘Not Polatlı Escort yet!’ she called out.

‘No…not yet. I want to feel your skin on me…for every moment that I can…’

Brett kissed the soft skin under her knees, wedging his shoulder under her legs to hoist them over his arms. His tongue made questing, lazy circles against her skin; probed into her wet folds that his fingers parted; moved up and down as if he was lapping at a bowl of milk.

He groaned on feeling her shudder, to push her hips from the bed and let out a deepening moan.

‘That’s not enough!’ she yelled. Her pussy’s lips glistened from the flood of her juices and his spittle, her hands in his hair as he breathed in her scent and; gloried in her state of arousal. ‘Come to me …now!’

He pushed away her questing hands as Lucia sought his prick.

‘Easy, Lucia…I have time to enjoy you,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘Take it easy…we have time to make this first moment last…’

He found a sweet spot and suckled on it and knew that he might well mark her, and she’d remember that her boss had claimed her body after she’d led him on. He’d see it again when they loved the next time.

He kissed her thighs, the back of her knees and down to her feet; sucked on her painted toes than moved up to breathe cooling breaths to her lips before his mouth was again on her hairy mound, his tongue flickering into her, then the tip before he again lapped over the length of her slit and into her once more, in a quickening rhythm and stopping only to lightly press his tongue tip to her clit.

‘Hombre! Ven…ven…bring it to me!’ she cried out on a strangled moan, meeting his smile as he looked up at her.

‘No, don’t…we’re not finished’ she gasped when he stood up. ‘You can’t… can’t leave me like this!’ He sat up and watched him kneel between her legs before he stripped off his boxers. ‘You…you will break me!’

His thick straining prick arced out from a tangle of hair, the smooth skin of its tip twitching against his belly, it veined length paler than the rest of him. He held it, teased her by standing before her for a moment only, a smile parting his lips before his tongue slicked them.

‘I don’t intend to….but you are so tight I can’t see how I can avoid it. I’ll go slowly, Lucia…but you need to promise to say if I’m too big, or if I need to do it in a different way, or something.’

‘I promise,’ she whispered, and drew Brett closer. She put her arms around his neck and looked down as she felt him press his penis against the moist folds of her pussy, slipped the underside against her in slow caresses, teasing her clit until he positioned himself and pressed forward in slow sinuous movements, all the while pressing into her, withdrawing until only the tip offered caresses before plunging in deeper, giving her little time to adjust.

‘It is okay, Brett…find me…now!’ she gasped as his big cock head slipped inside, her breaths quickening as she matched his pace, her walls tightening around him as if her body was protecting itself.

‘I’ll ease up…sure don’t want to.’

Brett met her stilled look as he moved slowly; bent to kiss her. She was tight and his frustration, and feeling a woman claim his prick after some time, wound his clock; made him wonder just how long he would hold on. He eased back and pushed forward with smooth, slow thrusts, going in all the way until his belly brushed hers and he felt her hair mix with his, heard the soft squelching sounds as he moved in her and she began to tug on him.

Finally, she was perfect and her body accepting him as he sheathed himself so deep in Lucia’s slick core. He held there for a minute, letting her get used to his length and girth, and giving himself time to calm down; the woman had come knocking on his door and now they were in his bed, and he wanted to fuck.

‘Come one…come on,’ she gasped in her demanding ways, moved to claim him as she raised her hips to draw him in and Brett knew she was ready.

He began to move, slowly at first, but eventually picking up speed as he went. He could feel his balls slapping against her with every thrust, and it drove him wild. He quickened his pace stroke by stroke, heartbeat by heartbeat until she was flinging her head from side to side, desperate for release. He pulled on her hips, tilting her up towards him for deeper penetration. They settled into a rhythm of fast hard strokes, deep, long ones, and grinding ones with their hips undulating against each other. She was gasping as he moved them both on his bed, her beautiful breasts bouncing freely.

He bent to tug and suck one nipple into his mouth. He needed her to cum and he knew how to help it along. Keeping his mouth on her breast, he reached down with one hand and found the sensitive spot on her clit, rubbing it hard and fast. Her breathing hitched and he knew it was time. He bit down on the nipple in his mouth, just hard enough to send a jolt to her pussy, and she came with a surprised gasp.

‘Oh Jeez!’ he yelled and pulled out of her; tore at the condom packet and rose to kneel before her; slipped the rubber over his slicked prick and plunged back in; pushed her legs up and hooked them in his elbows; began to pound her body without any care for her. He wanted to feel the rush, the tightening in his belly, the gnawing ache of having to hold back until a moment of his choosing.

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