Saving Grace by Unknown (best book reader .TXT) 📕

tilted towards my friends soft center, sent a hungry kind of shiver through me that I'd not experienced either.

Rebecca Rivers' face was strained, but not in the way it had been when she was being taught her lesson. Now it wasn't a wince or a cringe, but a certain tautness in her jaw that I saw, with her mouth half open. Her hips bucked at him, as if begging him to be inside of her already. He didn't need much invitation. With their eyes locked, like they were the only two in the world right then and there, like they weren't in a stall with horses and her friend watching, he put himself at the soft lips leading to her inside, flexed, then pushed himself in.

It was the sound that made my wetness come again. The sound of those moist lips being parted by his stiffness, opening to him willingly. Her legs flailed around his back as he lowered her onto himself, impaling her on his manhood until there was none left to see, until her jaw quivered slightly when she reached the hilt of it.

The two bodies were a mess of clothes and flesh and when he began moving inside her, that sound, that wet sound, just got wetter. I couldn't help but watch. I wasn't the church going type, but I did feel some embarrassment still, at bearing witness to their intimacy. With each thrust inside of her, I watched her body quake and quiver around his, watched her feet kick as if the wave's of pleasure were rolling through her. Her hands moved up around his neck and she leaned her forehead forward, up against his and closed her eyes.

His hands stayed on the flesh they'd just flayed into obedience, not groping or kneading it, just holding her firmly there up against the wall. When the moment came, I almost couldn't tell.

He slowed. She closed her mouth and shut her eyes tight. He moved inside her slowly. I again couldn't help but look at their middle's. I saw those velvet lips at the moment they gripped his manhood, at the moment she inhaled softly at the moment her body shook so gently. Then I saw him start to move. He flexed once, twice, three times, then I lost count because as he came to fill her, his cream began to drip back down his shaft and I stared at it with wide eyes, never having seen such a thing and never having expected to that day.

That is when I disappeared into their world as well. I could not say how long they stayed like that or how long it was that I was standing there watching because time seemed to stop, with their heads tilted towards each other, each gripped in the others embrace. When the moment did finally fade and we, all three, emerged from out the other side, me suddenly painfully aware of the discomfort I might be causing, I first looked away, then took the few steps towards the stall to my left and began to pet the horse there on its nose, as if none of that had just transpired.

The rustle of clothes, the straightening of dresses and the buckling of belts, caused me to turn around again, my face a shade less red than it had been. Or so I hoped.

"Come on," Travis said, walking towards the stall where I was standing. "You can have that one."

Chapter 2: Doc's Decision

The ride into town didn't end up being rainy. Not that things blew over. The smell of rain hung in the air and there was a sort of expectancy that rain would come, but nothing did.

You know what they say about the weather in Colorado, they'd always say, if you don't like it just wait five minutes, it'll change. I can't say I loved the saying, surely that was just as much the case anywhere you went.

When I reached the Doc's house, there were lantern's already on inside from the darkness in the sky and I hitched the horse up to a post and gave him a pat for being such a good boy and not putting up a fuss with a stranger on his back.

The Doc's house was no mansion, but it was big enough he had a housekeeper come a few times a week. It was that kind old lady that answered the door and told me to wait while she fetched him. I looked around. Not much had changed in the place since I'd last been there. The memory smacked across my cheek that the last time had been when daddy was still alive and I felt another welling of anguish in my throat which I had to swallow once or twice to choke back down.

They'd been good friends, daddy and the Doc, and I'd spent many a long day running through the halls of that house while my daddy and him sat sipping lemonade and talking politics. The Doc's wife had died a time ago as well and the two men must have found some comfort in that companionship as he'd never remarried either. Standing there, I could have sworn I could smell the lemonade they'd been sipping, sometimes laced with just a little whisky to brighten up the day.

"Well, well," the voice came from down the hall, making me drift back down to earth and smile at the mustached man walking towards me.

"Doc," I whispered, as I ran up to him and threw myself into his arms. He let out a low chuckle that sent me back again to my childhood and returned my affection with a gentle squeeze. The smell of his jacket, together with all the memories that old house sent barrelling at me finally got the better of me and I felt the burn I'd been burying in my throat erupt in big fat tears that rolled down my cheeks.

I felt the Doc's demeanour change, rather than saw it, what with my face