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SAMANTHA’S NEW LIFE 6
SAMANTHA’S NEW LIFE: CHAPTER SIX: THE MOVE
True to his word, as if I could have or would have ever doubted it, Nick cleared several days off from his schedule to accompany me on my return back to Wichita. The difference between now and a week ago, though, was that I was not returning home after a nice visit with my son. Now, we were on a mission to move my belongings to my home in Tucson. He not only was able to get on the same flights as my ticketed itinerary return flights, but on each flight he was able to talk another passenger to switch seats so we could sit next to each other, even if that meant he had a middle seat.
Along the way, I learned what his plan was for getting me packed and leaving in only a matter of days. He reserved a U-Haul truck, packing boxes and tape, and a tow dolly for my little Toyota Prius. He would begin packing my things at the apartment while I went around to the bank, Post Office, and the apartment manager. He wanted to be gone within two days to allow for a two day drive back in the U-Haul truck. It sounded like a lot of work to make happen, but I didn’t care if I had to work all night.
I felt like nothing could dampen my mood or outlook for my life after last night. He had not only accepted what I thought of as a transgression of our relationship, but he endorsed it and immediately pulled it into a part of our mutual experience. I couldn’t help but wonder what might be next as a new experience for us. There was no question in mind, if there had been since we made the conscious decision to share our lives, that my life and his were changed forever. And, neither of us had a real understanding of how far this new life and experience would lead us. I was anxious to experience this new life, though, to the fullest, and the next step was to fully join him in our physical existence together. The sooner we were on the road leaving Wichita behind, the happier and renewed I would feel.
But I wasn’t the only one emotionally and psychologically damaged by the recent past.
* * * *
“You wanted to know if she returned … well, she has. I just saw her car parked in front of her apartment.”
Henry Ordman was desperate. His life had been ruined. He had potential legal problems that the County District Attorney was still looking into; he had lost his job, and worse, the entire agency he had worked for closed; his former co-workers all blamed him; his wife had filed divorce papers, and if his wife and daughter even looked at him, it was with disgust and revulsion. And in his mind, there was only one person to blame, that stupid, woman that had been so easy to manipulate. If she hadn’t been so vulnerable, it might never have gone to the extent it did. Of course, the other guys involved were to blame, too. But it was easier to put it on that woman than the other guys. He knew that was weak, but it was real and easy. So, he had acted tough about doing something about it, ‘he’d show her’, but she had suddenly disappeared.
Now she was back? And, these guys had taken him seriously? He was too far gone, now; whatever image he had left for saving was only in the eyes of these two guys, all the result of drunken bitching and macho talk at bars. What little pride he had left, he bundled into a tight little package of rage, “Meet me on the street at her place in 20 minutes. Bring Todd.”
“Todd’s gone. Nobody has seen him. The word is he gave his wife the divorce she demanded. He didn’t even discuss it or get a lawyer. Gave her 75% of everything. He just left.”
“Forget him! Be there in 20 minutes, we’ll make sure she doesn’t pursue charges, any further.” The other guy was sure Ordman had lost it, jumped right off the tracks, and lost all control. But, Ordman always had the control over them. He didn’t know why, but he resolved to himself that this would be the last time he had anything to do with Ordman.
They met at the apartment building and Ordman had the red gym bag. The guy knew what that would mean and he told himself, again, that this was the last time.
They climbed to the second floor and stood outside her door.
Inside, Samantha and Nick were busy making and filling boxes, taping together hangers of clothes, and identifying what should go directly to Goodwill rather than moving. At the sound of the knock on the door, Samantha froze and Nick noticed the reaction. The last thing she wanted was to have to interact with anyone except the young mother across the hall and the landlord.
* * * *
Nick moved to go to the door, but I stopped kartal escort him with my hand on his arm. I move to the peep-hole and quickly turn my back to the door, then just as quickly, turned to put the security chain in place.
That set off an alarm in Nick’s head and he came up behind me, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Ordman …”
“Call the woman across the hall, have her check out her peep-hole and tell you what she sees.”
There was a more insistent knock, and I respond to wait a minute, I was in the bathroom and my hair was wet. I called Holly across the hall and ask her to do what Nick suggested. She came back immediately that there were two men, one standing against the wall holding a red gym bag, the other in front of my door. I repeated it quietly to Nick and told me what to have her do.
“Holly, I’m afraid this might be trouble. Can you be ready to call 911, if anything happens?” She agreed and I ended the call. In the other apartment, Holly punched in 911 and returns to the peep-hole, ready to press the little green phone symbol to place the call.
I return my eye to the peep-hole only to be met with a rough knocking at the same time. “Who is it?”
“Open the damn door!”
“Go away! I have the door locked and chained.”
Nick moved me into the corner by the door and moved several filled boxes in front of me as we can hear something ramming the door, probably a shoulder. Apparently, it is harder to break in a door than it appears on TV, at least based on the cussing from the other side. I see that Nick has taken up position about a foot from the wall on the side of the door with the hinges. There is another pounding and I hope that Holly is calling 911 right now.
The door opens on the right side. When it bursts open, Nick has his foot firmly planted on the floor keeping it from fully flying open, then he rams into it with his full body weight, slamming the door back into Ordman and pinning him against the door jam. He screams in pain, but Nick is already on top of him, pulling the door open, grabbing him by the front of his jacket, and flinging him 10 feet into the apartment where he lands with a crash against the small coffee table, which shatters when he and it crashes into the couch on the other side of the small room. Meanwhile, the other guy is coming in, but partially confused at the sudden turn of events. Nick spins on the ball of his left foot while bringing his right up at the guy entering, catching him between his legs and driving his foot viciously up into his scrotum. The guy hardly makes a sound, but falls to his knees, his hands now defenselessly holding himself between the legs. I caught a glimpse of Nick’s eyes and was surprised at the calm and concentration displayed there. But, he was still moving, as if he had somewhere been trained to do just this kind of thing. He leapt into the air, his right arm going high above his head. As he came back down, he brought his elbow down faster; the combined forces of motion resulting in a devastating blow as it landed at the base of the guy’s neck. He slumped to the floor in the open doorway.
Nick looked back at me, my eyes were wide in shock and fear; then he moved to Ordman, who was just now struggling to his feet. Outside, I could hear the sirens of several police or sheriff cars getting closer. As Ordman got to his knees, he put his hand up as if to tell us that he had had enough. Nick planted his left foot and pivoted around, landing a solid kick with his right into the side of Ordman’s head.
Seeing no further movement from either of the two men, Nick turned to me and surprised me with his calm, “Maybe I should have tried out for the field goal kicker.”
The stress of the moment or the relief that we were okay? But, I couldn’t help myself, I laughed and he joined me, giving me his hands and pulling me up just as the police charged into the door opening, guns pointed everywhere, including at us.
It took a few hours to sort out, but it helped that Holly opened her door, holding her little girl, and identified herself as the one who called 911. She gave an account of the break-in as she witnessed it through the peep-hole that confirmed what we had stated in our separate accounts.
We had planned to be leaving early the next morning, but we were delayed until a little after noon to complete the police reports and interviews in between packing and loading. The connection was made to the sexual abuse case still pending to which Nick offered up the website of the videos the agent had found about pendik escort bayan me. The County Assistant Prosecutor offered a smile that indicated her case just got a lot stronger against Ordman and the other two.
The lead detective questioned Nick pretty intensely about the pro-active v******e he had used. Nick eventually chuckled, which caused him to stop and consider him. “Detective, do you have a mother you love? Do you have a mother that you thank God for every time you think of her? Do you have a mother that you know sacrificed her goals and plans to make your future the best it could be? That’s the kind of mother I have. That’s the way I feel about her. So, tell me … if you have a mother like that, how would you have reacted? With that kind of mother at risk, would you bother to measure the appropriate level of v******e? Would you stand by and wait to see what action those two might bring before acting? Or, would you just bring all the v******e you could to bear on them before they could do any harm?”
Whatever issue the detective might have had, that response eliminated it. He nodded his head, stood up, and shook Nick’s hand. We gave them Nick’s address, our e-mail accounts, and phone numbers in case they needed us for anything more. But, they didn’t think they would need to bother us any more about it. The Prosecutor’s office believed that any reasonable attorney would recommend a plea deal and it wouldn’t ever make it to court. That was a relief to me.
By the time we were ready to leave Wichita, it was a little later than our original plan, but not significantly. I said my goodbye to Holly and thanked her again for her assistance at the break-in. Then, with my car secured on the towing dolly, Nick steered the truck out of Wichita. We would take turns driving. The U-Haul was automatic transmission and the worst part of the driving was remembering that my car was being towed behind and cornering was wider than normal. We agree on taking I-35 South out of Wichita to Oklahoma City, then I-40 West to Albuquerque to I-25 South to I-10 West to Tucson. It was going to be about an hour longer than other routes, but it would be easier, with fewer towns to worry about, and … it got us out of Kansas the fastest. Maybe it was unfair to Kansas, but I never wanted to go back there.
We had planned to stop for the night in Albuquerque, NM for the night, but with the late start we changed that to stopping in Amarillo, TX. It would be 11 hours the next day, but we’d do it.
Nick pulled me into discussion. I had been quiet, even withdrawn for the first several hours of travel. I admitted to a feeling of regret and guilt for bringing these problems onto him. He let me talk for a long time, which was the****utic in itself. The more I talked about what had just happened, the more critically I looked at the events and my past life. The more I looked, the angrier I became. Initially, my anger was inward directed, something I was very good at doing, aiming everything that was wrong at myself as though I had supreme power over everything that happened. He was very patient and tolerant in listening. He would only add a word or two are critical moments in my monolog, critical words like ‘why’, ‘who’, ‘you caused that?’, or something similar. They were simple diversions that led me to recognize that more of my past was things done to me than things I had created or invited. We talked a long time, but we had a long time available to us to talk.
When I was able to admit that my anger was really at those two men and all the men before them, I saw him smiling.
“What do you find so amusing?”
“Sorry, but I was just thinking … then, it must have felt really good when I beat the snot out of those two …”
I turned to look at him in surprise and he glanced at me with a big smile on his face. I knew he wasn’t a violent person by nature and I remembered how he described his motivation to the detective. And, I smiled … then laughed.
“Yes … yes, it felt really, really good.” And, it was broken just like that.
That night we stopped at a cheaper hotel along the Interstate that gave us plenty of room for the length of our truck and trailer. We had a large burger and several beers at a bar & grill near the hotel and he took me to bed. There was no awkward period of ‘what’s on TV’. When the door closed behind us, he pulled me into him and started taking my clothes off. I returned the effort, working on his belt and shirt. I remembered the movies making this look so smooth with hardly any interruption escort pendik in the passion. It wasn’t that way for us, we were clumsy and struggling, but when we were both completely naked, he pulled the covers down on the bed and guided me into the center. I parted my legs for him and he crawled between my legs, his body lightly on top of me, his mouth over mine. Then, with his hands still holding my head, his weight mostly supported on his elbows, I felt his cock head lightly probing at my groin, finding my pussy, and sliding up and down with just enough pressure that when it found my hole, he slid into my wet and ready pussy. I gasped into his mouth.
He breathed into mine, “I love you … more than I thought I could ever love a woman in this way. I think you were always the one. I just couldn’t do anything about it. Until now. Now, I will never let you go.”
And, we made love. But, not simply and not quickly. It was as if he was wanting to savor this moment as some kind of exclamation to the newness of our coming life together. He started out with me on my back in the missionary position we found ourselves, but he changed that by rolling us so he was on his back and I was riding him in a ‘cow-girl’ position. I put my hands on his chest and my fingers found his nipples; I tweaked them like he had done to me before, all the while I was raising and lowering my hips, my pussy moving up and down on his cock. Then, I would lean in to kiss him and he held me tightly to him, my b**sts flattened into his chest, but my hips continued to move up and down or backward and forward, but all the time moving.
Then he rolled us, again. I moaned and complained as I rolled away from him, completely removing him from me. I was so close to my orgasm and I desperately wanted to feel him cum inside me, once more. He rolled me onto my stomach and pulled me to the edge of the bed until my knees fell to the floor with my upper body on the bed. He then got behind me and I opened my knees wide as he probed to re-enter me. And he did, smoothly and deeply, completely and fully. I cried out in pleasure and satisfaction at being filled with him. He leaned over me and I could feel his bare stomach and chest on my bare back as his hips pressed into me and pulled away only to press back.
He put his lips close to my right ear and whispered, “You liked it when Harley licked you, didn’t you?” I nodded. “And, when you let Harley lick you more, you came on his tongue.” I nodded. “And when he licked us while we fucked later, you licked that even more.”
“Oh, god, yes!”
“You have enjoyed Harley so much from so little interaction, have you been thinking about Harley and loving you? Have you thought about those experiences and wondered about doing more of it?” I nodded enthusiastically, but I also know I was blushing profusely, even while being fucked, I was blushing from admitting that I thought about Harley. “Good, I am glad you have been.” He moved his mouth to my left ear. “I am glad you have been thinking more about my dog and you.” He kissed my shoulder and my cheek. I was pushing back against him as he pumped into me. I so wanted to cum and to feel him cum inside him. I wanted it now, more than before, he talking about Harley was driving me to new heights and I felt like I might explode at any moment.
Then he whispered the words that changed me. I had been actively pushing back when he whispered, “You know what this position is called, right?”
I was focused on my mounting orgasm when his whispered words sunk into my brain and I went rigid. One moment I was moving into his pumping hips and the next I was frozen. But, my mouth gasped out what my brain registered.
“Oh! My! God!! Doggie ….” But the words never finished. Instead my body erupted in orgasm, a mind-numbing, body shaking, pussy spasming orgasm. I felt my body ripple in jolting sensations from my pussy, through my clit, and through my body to my nipples, only to rebound like a wave hitting a wall and moving back to its original source. All the while I felt his cock inside intimately as the walls of my pussy clenched and spasmed around his throbbing and twitching member. Then he too was jerking, his body and his cock, sending spurt after spurt of his seed into my body.
When our bodies started recovering, we moved under the covers and he turned out the lights. He was on his back and I wiggled into his side, my left arm across his chest and my left leg d****d over his. I kissed his mouth, then his shoulder and I nestled in comfortably. As sleep was pulling me under, that exchange was played over in my mind. I guess I needn’t worry about coming up with kinky ideas. He just asked me about being mounted by his dog …
* * CHAPTER SEVEN: AM I SUBMISSIVE? * * Thanks for reading.
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