Jon Reskind: Caesar comes book I

"We're contemplating that, Lydia," Mark said, heeling the sorrel into motion. "In the meantime, you can make a government claim for your losses…"

"Oh? Don't be ridiculous, lover. You know me better than that… besides, I wouldn't know how to begin without Daddy here," she answered, moving along beside him in a walk, making him remember the untold, numerous hours and days they had spent together.

He might have married her, he abruptly thought; it had been that intimately close between them. In fact, he'd carried the supposition for years… before he'd come to realize that he was below her station. He said: "Is Aaron still in Australia?"

"The last I heard… but he was contemplating a trip to Spain. Seems if he's met a senorita of sorts who inspires him… and you know Daddy…"

"Not really… but I tried, you'll have to admit that," Mark countered with a smile.

"Ohhh… come on, baby," Lydia laughed. "You were too close to the family not to read every one of us, eh?"

"Maybe… maybe you're right, Lyd," he answered, his tired mind rehashing it all. "Maybe you are right! All the way down to the marrow… and now, let's get a look at those dead animals, eh?"

"What did you mean by that… all of the bullshit, I mean! What?" she vulgarly snapped at him. "Right down to the marrow… what?"

"The west range, you said?" Mark questioned, purposefully half-rearing the sorrel before again digging his heels into her flanks. "I'm going to give her a run! She's aching! Stay with me and take the lead, eh?"

With that, he was gone, the powerful animal readily stretching its legs into a gallop as he expertly posted with it. Ahead lay the rolling, lower greened hills with the great ones beyond where the wild dog pack wandered, and he couldn't help but think of those night creatures as he raced forward in the warmth of the morning sunlight. There could never be anything sinister here, he thought, his weary brain coming alive again as the great animal raced beneath him and the fresh morning air whipped at his face!

He let her go her limit, never reining her waiting for her to fall into her stride… a lope and finally a keen, uphill walk. Lydia brought the bay up beside him, drawing the animal to a similar walk.

"Was that supposed to be a race?" she lightly taunted.

"Hell, you know better. This gal wanted to run and I gave her head. Where're the dead animals?"

"Back there. A mile or better… but what's the difference? You believe me, don't you?" she said, suddenly swinging down from her mount and making toward tethering it.

"Whoa, baby," Mark commanded, then swung down, moving around to manipulate the harness for the sorrel to graze. After, he saw a likely spot with a backing-rock and dropped before it, considering the hard mound as a pillow. In seconds, Lydia was beside him… and he'd expected that.

"Sort of like old times isn't it, Darling?" she huskily whispered, stretching out so that their bodies touched.

"Sort of… but not quite, Lydia," he managed, tugging a rare cigarette from his inside pocket and lighting it. "You were supposed to take the lead back there… take us to the animals, and you didn't. That's par. You couldn't care less about the dead sheep and dogs… and that's par. You know I have to come at something like this, it's my job, and you planned to use me… that's par. So… here we are… a pair of people, boy-girl, surrounded with the perfect environment…"

"And that's par," she said, raising up over him and looking down into his face. "Now, that you've analyzed it all, Doctor Blakely, may I kiss you?"

"I-I love her!" Mark blurted. "When I left here, I had no idea it was going to happen, but it did! I love her!"

"You belonged to me when you left!" Lydia hissed down into his face. "Four years we loved, played, fucked! I sucked your cock dry a hundred times! Now, you walk away from me like this?"

"None of that matters!" he managed, realizing the ridiculousness of his statement. "I mean… Christ, I love her, Lydia!"

"And me… what am I? Some sort of forgotten whore?"

"D-Damnit… let's face the truth for once!" Mark gasped, struggling to sit upright. "You wanted someone to play with and you had him! No marriage, Lydia… face it, I was beneath your station! Wasn't I? And the guy whose cock you were sucking wanted just a little bit more… like a wife… and maybe, even kids of his own! So… that's what's happened, eh? That's what's happened!"

"You're a bastard, Mark Blakely… but I love you!" she hotly whispered into his face. "I've always loved you!"

"Your father wouldn't let you love me… even when I wanted it that way!" Mark returned, lying back once more and dragging at his cigarette. "And he knew more than both of us… because we never could've made it, Lyd… noway… noway!"

"Oh… oh, damn you!" she hissed, rolling toward him and smoothing her hand upward along his inner thigh. "You say these things to me when I want to make love to you… I want your cock… I want you the way it used to be…!"

"It can't be that way, Lyd," he said, grasping her arm trying to entwine around his neck. "Don't you understand? I love her… my Jeannie… I love her!"

She sat upright with an abruptness that startled him. The depth of her greenish eyes in rage spat obsessive fire down at him. "You're mine, you bastard! I don't give a damn about your Jeannie…!" she swore, and he felt her hand knowingly caressing at the front of his pants!

Mark made an effort toward stopping her, but she counteracted that by dropping down onto him, snatching the cigarette from his lips and flattening the firm mounds of her firm, braless breasts against his chest, her hot, moistened lips finding his in an opened-mouth kiss. Her tiny, familiar tongue heatedly wormed its way between his lips while her hand continued to eagerly stroke the length of his uncontrollably hardening cock between them. He could have forced her off him, both of them knew that… could have fought it right then and there, but he didn't! Instead, he realized that he was suddenly returning her passionate kiss thrusting his tongue into her sweet-tasting mouth in blind, rapidly building lust!

His brain struggled, but he knew it was useless… he'd been there before! She was unzipping the fly of his pants, and then he felt her smooth, claiming hand easing inside, beyond the cotton of his shorts, its knowing fingers warmly encircling the now blood-engorged thickness of his long, swollen cock! He grunted into her mouth at the erotic caress, letting his arms move around her, his hands smoothing over the small of her back and downward beyond her slender waist to the rising swell of her skirt-covered buttocks.

She broke their kiss, staring almost triumphantly down into his face, the lustful desire in her burning, green eyes causing them to glow like polished ovals of jade. "You may love your Jeannie… but you need me, Darling!" she hissed in a throaty whisper. "You'll always want Lydia, because she knows how to make love to you… knows what you want and need… knows how much you love to have your cock licked and sucked by a warm wet mouth!"

"D-Damn you, Lyd… you sexy bitch!" he choked, working her loose, riding skirt up to find her lush, rounded buttocks unsurprisingly naked beneath, their soft, yielding resilience warm and smooth to his clutching hands. "It isn't going to gain you a lousy point, you hear…?"

She tittered, her hot breath brushing his face. "We'll see, baby," she hissed as she began to slither downward over him, her full, satiny buttocks slipping away from his kneading grasp.

Mark watched with a blunted sense of crippled resistance as she moved backwards onto her knees, wedging them between his legs, her small hand still clinging to the rigid length of his hardened penis inside his pants. Christ, he never should have come there and he'd known it all along! He lifted his head when he felt her let go of his cock and quickly begin to unbuckle his belt. She knew her way, every inch of it… and him, he realized, as she tugged his trousers and shorts down over his hips, exposing his genitals completely to her. His towering cock cleaved skyward in its long, thick, rigid state that she had lewdly incited to hardness with calculated intentions.