Blood Wild - Sex Stories

Blood Wild

... when he heard what he thought was a car door close with a thump. Sitting up a little straighter from where he was collapsed on his butt on the floor against the wall of the old fishing shanty. Walter blinked a few times trying to clear his foggy eyes.

At first, he thought he heard what sounded like light rain on the roof, but as he listened it dawned on him that it was more like tires, on gravel… and it was getting louder. Walter’s heart started beat a little faster, and his mouth ran dry.

***___***___

Cam saw the old pickup truck drive slowly past the poker shed. He didn’t recognize it from any of the locals that he knew to frequent this end of the lake and the fishing shanties, so he decided to investigate. He put down his clipboard that he had been writing his report on searching the poker shed, and started his cruiser’s engine. He backed around and turned to follow the old truck.

***___***___

Deeny sat on the old glider holding her mother’s hand. At some point her mother rolled her hand over and clasped Deeny’s hand in return. The two women leaned their heads towards each other, one older, one younger, both gently resting against one another savoring the intimacy of a mother and daughter’s love.

“Why does he do it mamma?” Deeny asked in a voice so soft that only her momma could hear it.

Caroline almost gasped with the quick inhale of night air, almost as if she had been holding her breath. She squeezed Deeny’s hand a little more firmly for a few ...

... seconds as she searched her own mind for an answer to that question. Deeny could feel the warmth of her momma’s tears on her own collarbone and it made her heart trip a few beats.

“He… He was…” Caroline began, still struggling for words. “Your daddy wasn’t always this way. When he was a boy, he was very shy. People thought he was dumb or touched in the head. The other kids, even his brothers and sisters made fun of him and picked on him. They were so cruel.” Caroline spoke haltingly as she dredged her mind for memories.

“Daddy? Shy?” Deeny asked in surprised disbelief.

“Yep. Shy as a mouse.” Caroline professed with a slight nod of her head. “I knew him even then, he lived on the next farm over from where I grew up. We were neighbors. I was the youngest of my brothers and sisters, I often snuck off to see your daddy. We would wander around in the woods between our two farms, exploring. He didn’t seem so shy when it was just him and me. He would talk to me and tell me stories that he had read. You didn’t know your daddy was a bookworm when he was younger did you?” Caroline asked her daughter… a heartwarming touch of pride in her voice.

“I know he likes to sing when… but, a bookworm?” Deeny stumbled and almost brought up the drinking.

“Those songs he sings? He read them before he heard anyone sing them. They once told him he had what they call a photographic memory. He could read something once and remember it completely, forever. He always made good grades in school, ...