The Legacy, Chapter 1: Three Oaks - Sex Stories

The Legacy, Chapter 1: Three Oaks

... of lightning and peals of thunder nearly constant and the wind increasing, rattling the shingles and dropping twigs and other debris on the roof above their heads. The sounds of rain began, slowly at first, ticking off the roof vents and metal gutters, and then strengthening into a steady roar, like a waterfall, pounding on the roof and the ground outside. They had decided to watch “The Bucket List”, because who doesn’t love Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson, especially together, and she was moving toward the TV and sound system when the lights suddenly went out, plunging the room into pitch blackness. Henry chuckled. “Well, I guess a movie is out of the question!” He started toward the candles that he knew were in a drawer near the front door as she turned toward the kitchen to retrieve a flashlight; a brilliant flash of lightning came a split second too late to reveal that they were on a collision course, and they came together hard in the middle of the living room, Beth’s face connecting solidly with Henry’s sternum! As she cried out and stumbled backwards, he let out a soft grunt, but had the presence of mind to grab her by the shoulders, preventing her from falling or tumbling into something. “Elizabeth! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” “Oh! I think so, it just surprised me, kind of knocked the air out of me. Are you all right?” “I’m fine…I guess we should have communicated better, huh?” She laughed. “Apparently so! Oh…uh-oh.” “What?” “I think I have a bloody nose…I banged ...

... it pretty hard on your chest.” In the flashes of lightning he shook out a clean handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. “Here, hold this to it while I find those damn candles!” While she tried to staunch the bleeding, he found and lit two candles, and then lit the three kerosene lamps they had around the kitchen and great room in strategic spots. Power outages were not an uncommon phenomenon out there in the country, where most of the power lines were still strung from poles and thus vulnerable to weather and falling branches. People that had lived there for any length of time were prepared for them. He crossed to her and tilted her chin up, looking down into her face. “Oh, Miss Elizabeth, I’m so sorry! You did bang it, you’re bleeding pretty badly.” He led her to the sofa. “Here, sit; I’ll get some paper towels, some Kleenex.” She sat, her head tilted back and the cloth pressed to her nose; when he returned, he placed a candle in a pewter holder on the low table in front of them and then sat at the end of the sofa, pulling her back so that her head rested in his lap. He checked her, dabbing at the blood on her upper lip with a wet paper towel before holding a couple of folded tissues to her nose, replacing his blood-stained handkerchief. “I just feel awful, Miss Elizabeth, hurting that pretty nose of yours.” She laughed, the sound muffled. “It’s all right, Henry, it was an accident. It’s no big deal; it’ll stop in a minute. I’m fine.” The storm raged outside, the ...