Von took a closer look at the label as if eating the pretty image on the box with his eyes. One rickety wheel chattered despite his slow pace down the aisle. A small kneeling woman looked up from a box of boutique orichette. She smiled sweetly.
She stood and placed the orichette into her nearly empty cart with the jar of gourmet marinara sauce and large wedge of Parmigiana Reggiano. Von smiled back and watched as she passed. At 4'10" she made Von's 5'6" positively towering. Though not remarkably pretty; she had a pleasant, carved face and blue irises so pale that they stood out from her whites only by razor bright blue rims. She fixed on the jasmine rice further up the aisle. Von's eyes lingered on the curve of her butt in tight faded blue jeans. He let out a sigh. She swirled her head back and caught him. She gave a broad smile as Von's eyes met hers.
She zipped from aisle to aisle. Von tried to time it so he would pass her again, but she was too quick. Fortunately for Von, she had chosen the slowest checkout girl in the store and was biding her time, her forearms resting on the cart handle eying the National Inquirer as the ample woman in front of her expended an ammo pouch of coupons. Von took his place in the next checkout stand.
She smiled softly and genuinely. The crow's feet and laugh lines indicated that she was probably a good five years older than Von, perhaps ten. He didn't care. She was perfect.
Almighty perfect.
But Von knew where to look for the right sort of woman; the grocery store was not among them. He tried to read her face as he unloaded his cart.
****
Von loaded the trunk of his old Civic. He flinched when a tailgate puffed open behind him. The tiny woman placed her two bags in the back of a beastly black Cadillac Escalade. She nodded softly.
Von smiled and tried to resist the urge to drain his eyes down her.
"Hi, I'm Madeline," she said in a sweet but slightly raspy voice. Madeline. He gave a restrained grin while Beavis and Butthead laughs cascaded through a funneling mind. Von looked down her left arm; one eye took her ring finger and surveyed a rock that could bend an oak branch. Like a lizard, his other eye revisited the shape of her butt. Perfect. He gave out a resigned sigh. Damn. Von never messed with married women.
But she was so perfect.
Her nose softly crinkled as she observed his focus on her ring finger. She held it up and tilted her head. "I paid for it; I figure I still get to enjoy it for a while." Her thumb twirled the ring several times. "Messy divorce. Maybe I should put the diamond in another setting," she concluded.
Von felt like a running-back who suddenly found a big gap in the brick-wall line. He prepared to make his dash, but he knew there was 80 yards between him and the end-zone. Eyes wide, pace steady - don't burn out too early!
Her legs carved out shapely in her jeans. Small unholstered breasts sat high upon her slim chest. Everything would fit just perfectly. He adjusted the front of his jeans. "I'm Von." He displayed his ringless finger casually.
"Von? Interesting name." She compressed the full force of her body against the tailgate of her SUV.
Von closed his trunk. "It's not really my first name. My first name is Helmut, but it's such a bonehead name, I just go by Von." He folded his arms. "So, you're, like, on the rebound?"
"No, the rebound was some time back, just after I caught him cheating. I'm headed the other way up the court now," she said. Von laughed at the basketball reference given her size. She grinned and winked at him. He might just enjoy her company without the other thing. It had happened like that before.
****
Von adjusted his oversized jacket and straightened his faux silk power tie. He'd never been to this restaurant before, but he knew it was ritzy. He wasn't a snappy dresser, and despite the formality of his outfit, this day was no exception. But this was where Madeline had wanted to meet him.
The hostess took him to the table. She had already ordered a bottle of exceptional white wine. She deftly poured a glass for Von. As he took his seat, he took in Madeline's elegant midnight blue silk evening dress. A shimmering gold wrap over her bare shoulders carried the same leaf pattern as the hand painted left edge of the dress, in reverse colorings. He felt as out of place as an alley cat in the kitchen that bubbled with tight lipped nasal French phrases. Von was not a man impressed with finery and elegance, but the setting collapsed like 90 feet of water above him. He opened the menu. No prices. His heart stopped and he nearly spit the blanc de noir across the virgin tablecloth. If you have to ask, you can't afford it. Casually he pulled out his wallet under the table and looked in on the lonely presidents within.
"This is my treat, Von. I hope you aren't offended."
Von casually closed the wallet. "Well, uh, if you insist." He choked back the word ma'am. He eased his chair back from the table and rested his elbows on his knees. He watched the eager scurrying of the staff around the proper guests like Marty Stauffer at a busy estuary.
The waitress was a lithe gazelle of a woman with bright red hair caught in a pony tail and cool white skin. Von avoided his compulsions through the appetizer and the better part of the main course, but his eyes finally betrayed him after she came for the dessert order. The waitress' bottom danced beneath a smooth, shiny black skirt. Von's eyes snapped back to Madeline's. Apologetically, he turned his eyes down to the empty table. When he looked back up, Madeline grinned. "Yours is nicer, Madeline."
Her brow arched and she let out a laugh that turned the coolest heads in the restaurant.
Von had never been with a woman like Madeline. He improvised. The two had hit it off famously, but it was best to let things unfold smoothly with any woman whose preferences were not clear yet - especially a woman like this. No bill was asked or offered as she handed her platinum card to the maitre d'. She walked gracefully on gold four inch heels into the parking lot. He lingered at the door he had opened and watched her butt dance away. Finally he followed her to a jet black BMW Z4 roadster. She smiled sweetly. "I had a fine time, Von."
Von took her small hand in his. "Me too, Madeline."
"Would you like to join me for a nightcap?"
Von took a deep breath. "I have an early day tomorrow."
"Understandable."
Von leaned in received a soft kiss that slowly embraced his mouth. Her breath tasted of Sauterne, white chocolate and mint. She rested one palm delicately on his upper arm. The other clutched her jeweled pocketbook. His mouth gaped as she eased away from the kiss. "I hope we'll meet again." She stepped out of her heels and sat in her roadster.
Von nodded. "My treat, next time."
"Of course."
He leaned against his Civic and watched as she revved out of the parking lot.
****
As at home as Madeline had been in the auspices of her favorite restaurant, so she was at the Steak-n-Ale. She wore faded jeans and a tank-top covered by a flannel shirt tied at her waist. She drank his choice of beer and ate her Delmonico like a logger after a clear cut. She held her own in every topic Von introduced. He let out a Dizzy Gillespie sigh as her rounded butt disappeared toward the restrooms.
He left a nice tip for the efficient, acne-afflicted waiter. The two exited into the parking lot. The smell of diesel fumes and the sound of street racing churned in the distance as they walked to her roadster.
"Do you have an early day tomorrow?" She took his hand in hers.
"Nope."
"Care to join me for a nightcap?"
"Sure." His heart pounded as she opened the top. The cold late autumn night poured down with the stars. The veins of her hand popped out as she manipulated the gearshift. He gripped the armrest as a man plagued with aviophobia might when charging down the runway. She whipped up a mountain road that hair-pinned beside a clear drop to a river churning silently below.
She pulled into an inconspicuous drive then reached over and patted his hand, which was now glued to the console next to the parking brake. "I hope I didn't scare you too much, but what point is having a BMW Roadster if you don't stretch it out?"
"Indeed." He forced a casual body language. The house loomed big on the hill overlooking the city. Madeline took his hand and led him inside. She pointed to a white leather couch and he relaxed at one end. She brought a delicate mixed drink and he sipped.
She sat on the other end of the couch. "I haven't been out much since my marriage broke up. To be honest, I'm still pretty bitter." She took a drink and licked her lips. "After screwing another woman, he had the audacity to try to squeeze me for support! Bastard. My only regret was that all I could do is make sure he gets nothing from me. Have you ever been married, Von?"
"No, and I probably never will."
"Don't say that. You just haven't found the right woman," she declared.
Von thought to explain. He shrugged.
Each time she stood up, Von followed her - every flex of her muscles. He crossed one leg over as she returned and handed him a fresh drink. This time she sat next to him. He was hard as a girder. He worked up his nerve and kissed her. She opened her small mouth wide. They petted like prom dates until she stood up and took his hand. She smiled sweetly and led him to her bedroom.
****
It was a rose sunrise that cut through the broad window at the side of the bed. Von turned his head away and let his eyes adjust, then turned back to the lightly snoring form of Madeline. He was finally able to fully appreciate the liquid silver beauty of the sheets that had whistled sweetly into the night with awkward introductions. Now the satin bedspread was entirely off the bed, puddled on the Persian rug. Madeline slept on her stomach, her smiling face toward Von. Her eyes darted in full REM. Her bare back angled to a valley that rose up to the two perfect peaks of her butt covered in the silver top sheet. He gripped the sheet in his toes and slowly pulled them down until only her left calf was covered. She was more perfect than even he had imagined.
And this was something he knew a lot about.
He'd had large ones, tiny ones, bulbous ones and flat ones. He had enjoyed dark ones and pale ones, oriental ones (several nations were represented) and there was this Latin one connected to a feisty woman named Destina. Squirming or demure, fighting or pleading. Every shape and size, and he had found something to enjoy. He honed his skills like a master carpenter. He learned how each type of wood responded to each tool.
The corner of sheet that remained over his groin swelled like a tide of mercury.
"Mmmm." Her eyes were on his groin. She reached down and wrapped his hard-on in the satin and stroked. She removed the sheet and straddled him. The smell of her pussy was fresh as she spread wide and scooped him inside her. But he so wanted just to take a swig - a playful paw. She bobbed above him, her eyes locked sweetly in his. A fine onyx pendant swayed from nipple to nipple. He gripped her legs, up to hips and squeezed her butt tightly. She gasped as her head swiveled back. He studied the perfect cut of her pearly teeth. He released one hand from her butt and stretched his fingers wide. He exhaled and bit his lip. He returned to softly stroke her soft butt cheek.
He thought of the moron who had married her, then cheated on her. He knew a lot of women and she was one of a kind. She made love like an angel. Her ripples caressed his rod like virgin silk.
He swayed with her gentle thrusts and watched her cheeks blossom into a silent, shuddering orgasm.
****
In subsequent dates Madeline paid for the finery, Von paid for the common. One night, when Von would have to be in to work early the next day, he followed her back to her place like a caboose on a bungee cord behind a racing train engine. He arrived to find her leaning on her Escalade with a grin.
"Sorry."
He shrugged.
She remained next to the SUV. She looked at it then back to Von. "You know, I just hate this thing." She elbowed the Escalade.
"Oh yeah? Why do you drive it at all?"
"It was my husband's. I guess I feel guilty having it around and not using it, so I take it out from time to time. You know what? You'd be doing me a favor if you took it off my hands."
Von lowered his brow. "I couldn't afford it."
"I don't want anything for it. It's all paid for. It's only got like five thousand miles on it. You could sell it, if you like."
Von shrugged. "Nah, thanks anyway." The oddity of the offer simply rolled off. The pilot flame popped and surged in the back of his mind. It wanted to ignite the starving furnace. There was something he wanted. Though no commitment had been made he also wanted to remain faithful. Still, fantasies could only take him so far.
"I'd really like it if you would take it."
"No, I don't want it. Just sell it!"
"Uh," she started. Her face clenched. She rubbed her hands together and looked at Von, and then the car. "I'd like to give you something," she softly said as her face relaxed.
Von's eyes darted from side to side then eased down her waist. Do I dare ask? He looked up into the laser probe of her stare. No, that's not what she meant. "You give me plenty, Madeline. I don't need anything."
Madeline's facial expression mystified him. He didn't know if she was angry or happy. He felt like he should say something more, but he had nothing to say. "Von, did I tell you about the night I caught him?"
Von did not want to hear, but she wanted to tell. It seemed to be festering. She was a lonely woman; she'd told him that trust had always come hard. So many hangers-on - a life full of money and devoid of honesty. "No, Madeline."
She smoothed her tan linen skirt. "In my own house. He was doing it in my own house. I don't know if she was a hooker or what, but she looked like one to me. I guess it was a good thing that I hate guns, cause if I'd have had one, he'd be dead now. The hooker, well," her pupils narrowed to a midday death-valley pinhole. Von felt a chill down his spine. She forced out a smile. "I burned the sheets they were on, and replaced the mattress but my stomach still hurts. It's like a bad meal that I can't wretch out." She wiped tears from each cheek. She cleared her throat. "I even thought of putting out a job... is that what they call it? No - a contract - on him."
Von's eyes widened.
"I could never have done that, though. So it just sits. I don't know how to let it go."
Von got a creepy feeling - suddenly in the eye of a hurricane, its heavy green air comforting but a silent menace. "So channel it." His heart throbbed.
"Into what?"
Von stretched a titillated, but frightened grin. He'd be on the receiving end - giving up control. He was thrilled that it might happen, but frightened that the very suggestion would disgust her. "Have you ever acted?"
"Yeah, in school, why?" she replied
"You can't do it to him, so find a surrogate."
"What kind of surrogate?" Her face compressed.
Von's heart pounded like a jackhammer. "Someone to punish, let out your frustration on."
"You think it would work?"
"Why not?"
She turned her head slightly to one side but kept her eyes on his. "What do you have in mind?"
There were so many ways to go, and Von knew them all. He'd used a paddle, a switch, a yard stick, even a whip. Bend them over a desk or a table, leaning against a counter, wrists gripped to heels. Clad in leather, cotton, lace and linen. But the best had always been a lava red hand on a ripening bare bottom, draped across an enforcing lap. The classics never go out of style.
Von convincingly played the part of a randy spouse recently caught. He unhitched his jeans and bent over her lap. Madeline's tiny hand stretched wide and clapped across his bottom, and a small shudder of emotion blasted from her like a controlled explosion of live ordinance, then her hand cut loose. Von grimaced. Madeline gasped at the stiffness that grew against her lap. She spanked him harder, as the inner wall of the hurricane struck, a torrent drained from her eyes.
Von's butt burned with champagne sparkles as he stood up and grabbed his pants. "Wait." His rod softened as she left the room and came back with a jar in her hand. She sighed, the dew of tears still in the folds under her crisp jaw line and in the ridge of her collarbone. "We're not done." She sat down at the center of the couch, and Von cautiously lay across her lap again. His heart pounded hard again. He smelled rich roses, then he felt the delicious icy cream. She rubbed it deep in his skin and sighed when again he hardened. She encouraged him to sit beside her.
For the first time, Madeline leaned into his lap and took his penis in her mouth. She worked around it like corn on the cob while her hand smoothed his balls. Her silk clad butt in was in perfect reach. He stroked across one bun, down the valley then back up the other.
She wore no panties.
Von's cock twitched as she took him deep in her mouth. He gripped her butt tightly when she teasingly pulled away. She hitched up her skirt and straddled him. Von fondled her butt as she took him to full depth then pulled back until he felt the cool air on the tip of his rod. "Oh, oh God," he repeated as she increased these long strokes.
He clenched his fists and toes. He exploded deep into her body.
"Forgiven," she whispered into his ear.
****
Neither wanted to back away from the awkward canyon that ensued. They got together several times, but parted ways at the end of each evening. One night Madeline insisted that Von come to her house. Her taillights stayed in view for the entire drive. When he got out of his Civic, she was by the Escalade. "I'd really like you to have this."
"Nah."
"I insist."
He shook his head.
She continued to press. His refusals became louder. Finally he blurted out, "I don't want the fucking thing, Madeline!"
She grinned. "I've been a bad girl haven't I?"
Von's angry brow lifted like a bar bell in a clean and jerk. She turned and swiveled her hips seductively. His eyes fixed on the oriental bright red silk gown that clung to that most perfect bottom. She paused at the door and looked back. She curled her finger toward her blushing face.
Von bit his lip and stepped toward the house.
Originally published June 2007 - "Body Art"