Chapter Five
Nieve woke up cheerful and stayed that way for five minutes until she remembered her fight with Lacey and burst into tears again. I comforted her, but this pattern continued throughout the long day. I quietly let the kids know that their mother needed not to be bothered. Kay managed this by heading out of the house for the day, Ri by locking the door to his room, and Melly made a Feel Better Mama card that made Nieve cry even harder. I explained to Melly that this meant that Mama loved it but then she also started crying and had to be soothed.
The next day was little better. Lacey had not made contact since her late night texts. Nieve didn't text her, not knowing what to say, and I didn't text because I wasn't sure what was going on under the surface. I worried that this was a serious rupture between the three of us. Nieve would start sniffling at random moments. It was a soggy week.
It was Friday night when things came to a head. The was a knock at the door and when I answered it Lacey stood there, tears running down her face. She gave me a hard hug, then raced inside to where Nieve stood in the kitchen stirring tomato sauce. She stopped at arms length and said nothing. Nieve looked at her and began crying, and then, as if on cue, they fell into each other's arms, sobbing and apologizing incoherently. This went on for some time and the pasta sauce scorched, but no one (except the kids) minded.
By the time we'd all finished dinner Lacey and my wife were closer than ever. The hugging continued even when they moved from the table to the sofa, and as I cleaned up after dinner I could hear the giggling and chattering that meant they were conspiring about something. I joined them on the couch with trepidation. Nieve took my hand with the arm that wasn't around Lacey's waist.
"Hi," she said. Both women had recovered from their crying jag and looked enchanting--bright eyes, rosy cheeks, and the release of tension had given them both bubbly, mischievous expressions.
"Hi," I said, and then to Lacey, "Hi."
"Hi!" she said. This was the funniest thing she could have said, apparently, since both she and Nieve started laughing again.
"Things are better?" I asked. Nieve let go of my hand and turned to look at me square in the face. Her blue eyes were bright with laughter. She leaned in and kissed me full on the mouth, running her fingers through the hair on the back of my neck. When she broke off I leaned in for more. She smiled lovingly at me.
"You can go now."
"Wha?" I said, slow to understand. It had been a good kiss. And as a rule Nieve's comfort with public displays of affection ended at hugging.
"Girl talk time! Shoo, shoo! No perfect husbands allowed!" She pushed at me ineffectually.
"Wait, really?"
"Yep!"
I got up from the couch. To Lacey I said, "You good?"
"Yeah. Never better." She smiled.
From my study I could hear their chattering and laughter. What were they talking about? How much was Lacey sharing? Come to that, how much was Nieve sharing? She'd never been one for explicit girl talk, and had often complained when her friends engaged in it. But Lacey had been working at those barriers steadily for the past few weeks, and, in the catharsis of their rapprochement, I wondered what each had to tell the other.
It was one and one half glasses of whiskey later that Nieve came to the entry and told me that Lacey was leaving. I got up and came to the door to see her out, and when I gave her a good-bye hug, she pressed herself tightly against me and held on for a long while. I hugged her back.
"You sure you're good?"
"Yeah," she said. "And I think you'll like what we were cooking up tonight."
Before I could ask she flitted down the walk to her car and was gone. I turned to Nieve.
"So what exactly were you to conspiring about?"
"Heh heh heh," said my wife, in (unknowing?) imitation of Lacey's texts. "Guess you'll need to wait and see!"
My mind had been running through any number of possibilities about just how much of our recent late nights Lacey had shared. I was in no mood to be trifled with, and also Nieve looked particularly appealing. Whatever they'd discussed had excited her. I considered my options as we when upstairs to the bedroom. I waited until she had just put on her pajamas, then pounced.
"Whoa!" she squeaked, as I grabbed her from behind and threw us both backwards onto the bed. "What?" Before she could really react I had her just the way I wanted her, on her stomach across my lap. With one hand I gently but firmly held her neck so that she couldn't escape. She struggled briefly, giggling all the while.
"Now, then," I said, running one hand over her lovely ass. "I believe I have a conspiracy to ferret out."
She laughed harder, struggling playfully against my grip. "Oh NOOO," she said in mock despair, "whatever will become of this poor, helpless maiden? Woe is me!"
"Damn right," I said, and swatted her ass through her pajamas.
"Oooh! I guess it's my turn to be interrogated, is it?" She batted her eyelashes and wiggled against my lap. "We both had lots of fun last time, didn't we?"
Her answer was another swat on the bottom.
"I'll never talk!" she declared, her air of defiance somewhat less dramatic for her giggles. "Never!"
"That's fine," I said. "I've got all night to break you." When I said, 'break you', I heard her inhale sharply and felt her body stiffen.
"Oh, really?" she said, now with a little edge to her voice. Desire? Fear? "I'd like to see you--OH!"
I had pulled down her pajamas pants and spanked that lovely, white ass hard enough to leave a faint print. "You'd like to see me what?"
"I'd like to--OW! To see you--OH! See you TRY!" Each fragment punctuated by the sound of my hand hitting her bottom.
"Would you indeed." I caressed her bare skin, watched the gooseflesh rise. "You sure about that? I can be very persuasive."
"Do your worst," she whispered.
We had never really explored this side of things but it came quite naturally. At first I worried about hurting her, but each smack sent her deeper into a sort of trance state, and soon her eyes were glazed and her bottom a lovely shade of red. The pain seemed to let her surrender herself to me. She began to make little whimpering noises, sounding almost like a puppy.
"Had enough?" I asked, breathing the words into her ear.
"No," she whispered back, and closed her eyes. "Not... yet."
I could no longer resist. I moved her off my lap, and stood at the side of the bed between her spread legs. If she knew what was happening she gave no sign until I entered her. When I did, she buried her face in the bedsheets and gave a muffled scream.
"Do you come?"
"Y-yes," she murmured.
"Without permission?"
"Yes?" Her voice was low and uncertain, still muted by the covers. "I'm sorry..."
I pulled almost all the way out of her, stretching her pussy around the head of my cock, and paused there. "Really sorry?"
