Ghost Light by Rick Hautala Page B

unsnapped his pants, ran the zipper down, and then rolled his pants and underpants down to his knees in one swift motion.
    “Umm,” she said, followed by a low, guttural growl. “I like what I see already.”
    She grabbed his penis with one hand and, cupping his balls with the other hand, started kissing the tip, flicking it with her tongue. In an instant, Harry was hard and ready to go, but in spite of his arousal, he couldn’t suppress the yawn that shook his body.
    “Oh, dear… What’s the matter?” Elizabeth said with a note of wounded pride in her voice. “Aren’t you all that interested this afternoon? Maybe I can convince you.”
    Harry grunted but said nothing, choosing instead to close his eyes and lean his head back as she opened her mouth and took him inside. The warm, wet ring of her lips surrounded him, pulling up and down with a soft, steady pressure. Blood engorged his penis, but still, in spite of himself, he yawned again with a loud, warbling groan.
    “Are you sure you’re up for this? No pun intended,” Elizabeth said as she shifted her knees to one side and sat up on the edge of the bed. Harry immediately plopped himself down beside her, bouncing a few times before flopping onto his back. Elizabeth leaned over him, her hand making cool, lazy circles on his chest and stomach as she pinched the loose, white flab of his belly—the belly of a man who was too busy with his work to exercise conscientiously.
    “I—uh, well… you see…”
    He smiled as Elizabeth shifted forward and let the soft cushions of her breasts brush against his ribs. He felt her nipples harden as she shifted up and down, breathing heavily into his ear.
    “Hey, doll,” she cooed. “If you’re all stressed out, you can just lie there and let me take care of things.”
    Again, her hand closed around Harry’s penis, squeezing and pulling gently; but the waves of sleepiness washing through him were too strong to ignore. He twisted his head to one side and covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned again so hard that tears filled his eyes.
    “God, I dunno,” he said. “I’m just…” He sighed, laid his head back and closed his eyes.
    “What, are things still out of control at home?” Elizabeth asked.
    Harry had kept her filled in on most of the details about Debbie’s death and Cindy’s reaction—no, over reaction to it. They had talked—as they had often talked over the past three years—about when he would get around to divorcing Cindy so they would be free to get married. Elizabeth knew better than to push him about it now because she knew how upset his wife was about her sister’s death. Still, after such a longtime, she was starting to lose patience and was beginning to wonder just how sincere he really was. After all, if a man would cheat on his wife for three years and never get around to broaching the subject of divorce with her, what was the guarantee that he would remain faithful to her once they were married?
    “It’s weird and getting weirder,” Harry said, keeping his eyes closed and smiling sleepily as Elizabeth continued to move her hand up and down, up and down.
    “What is it now,” Elizabeth said. She shifted down a bit and started kissing his stomach, taking a few moments to ream his navel with her tongue before shifting further down.
    “She wants the kids,” Harry said. Heated waves of pleasure mingled like whiskey in water with the soft pull of sleep. He told himself it was okay, that she had suggested he just lie back and enjoy himself.
    “What kids?” Elizabeth snapped. “You’ve been telling me for three years that you don’t have any kids.”
    The accusatory tone in her voice almost dragged him back to full consciousness, but he didn’t stay there for long. The softness of the mattress and cool sheets enfolded him like a billowing cloud.
    “No, not ours … her sister’s kids,” Harry said. “There’s this—Her sister wrote a will that gave her custody of her