Instalmment # 41 Marshall

Installment #41
Marshall

Marshall bounced out of the dirt road and almost broadsided the sheriff car. He immediately applied brakes and then relaxed as he noticed it was not this county sheriff. Might have been a stroke of luck there. But he had immediately seen that he was going to follow this guy for a while and as much as every fiber of his being longed to hold his darling Meg, he was not going to wind up with the sheriff going through his vehicle and delaying his return.
Ah, she was sleeping so peacefully when he left her. And he knew she would wait for him. All of his life he had yearned for a woman just like her. One who would understand him. One who would listen when he told her what his mother made him do. The secrets he had kept for all these years. The evil that lived in the home where he grew up. The father and brother that never knew that while they were at work or school or at the basketball game that he was home sucking on Mother’s tits and screwing her brains out.
She knew it was wrong and she did not care. “Marshall, come here. Dad and Jeffery went to  the movies and will not be home for hours.  Come in here and talk to me. Feel my skin! Feel how soft it is. Do you know what keeps a woman’s skin soft? This.” She reached down and laid her hand inside his crotch. “ This keeps me alive and vibrant. Your father does not understand. Slam, bam, thank you, ma’am.”
 As she spoke her hands worked his zipper and soon his jeans were around his knees. Her open mouth encircled him and her black eyes watched his face. Marshall jerked the wheel just in time to avoid a very bumpy ride down the side of a very steep cliff.
 Damn! Hope those guys up ahead were not watching the rear view mirror. “Ah, gee officer, I was just remembering a blow job from my mother and got a little inattentive there.” That ought to hold them. Marshall always tried to not let the hard on happen, but it did.  It always did. After she was satisfied he would take a long hot bath and then a hot shower, but still, the image of Mother with her lips slightly parted and her eyes watching his face as he mounted her and found the shooting stars that only she could bring was before him.
He liked it when she wanted “doggie style” because then he did not have to look at her. But still when he bucked and drove into her it was her face that was before him. It was mother he had seen with all the whores in Denver and Viet Nam and all points between and beyond. But he had found peace in the eyes of Meg Parker. At least he thought he had. Would. Could. Meg would be his salvation. Their union would be pure. Meg had a good heart. He had watched her with the dogs.  He had watched her with a wounded bird. With her son. Alone in her bedroom when nobody was around. She read her Bible.
She listened to Classic Country. He had always preferred Heavy Metal and stuff like that, but he found himself turning to Garth Brooks more often. Willie Nelson.  Kenny Rogers. Country guys knew how to rip your heart out. Not the women though. Dolly was a perfect example of what he did not want in a woman. Red lips and bleached hair. Meg did not dye her hair. She only wore a little lipstick and that only some of the time. As Marshall drove he pictured her lying on her cot waiting for him.

When he unlocked the door she would rush to him. Well if the Adavan had worn off, she would.
Maybe she would fall at his feet and cling to his knees. That would be a nice touch. Subservient. He would slowly take her hands and raise her to her feet.
“Oh, darling! Do not worship me so. We are equal, you and I.  I need you as much as you need me. Together! Together! Here, lie on the bed. Let me run you a nice bath. I am so sorry I had to leave you here all alone. Let me make it up to you.  Oh, I have been bad. Very bad. Do you want to spank me? You can. Oh, yes you can. Here. Let me lower my slacks and you can spank me. Oh, let me bend over. Spank me! Spank your baby boy!…..What the hell!”

 Marshall applied the brakes just in time to avoid a dung green helicopter landing on the road in front of him. The was no missing the big Colorado Law Enforcement stenciled across the side. He noted that he was right in front of Meg’s farm. Damn! Seven minutes and he would have been home. But here he sat. He watched as the door opened and a big burly guy that smelled of cop all over the place stepped down to the ground and then turned and held up his hand for Kevin Jackson, Meg’s son. The little queer guy from California. They both ducked and ran across the drive way to the yard. As they cleared the yard, the pilot gunned the rotor, dipped slightly and then the runners began to raise.

Marshall waited a bit as he surveyed the gathering in the yard. Oh, they had made the connection between Meg and Jeffery and the hunt was on. Well, let them look. He was very good at hide and seek. Jeffery was very well hidden as was the cop. Meg was a different story, but soon they would be in the Jeep headed south. A stop in Colorado Springs at the First National Bank to empty his safe deposit box and then Mexico. He had already bought property in Julisco, Mexico, an American retirement community on a lake that was straight out of a picture book. Living was easy down there. Cheap. Meg might resist at first, but when she accepted how much he loved her and how much she needed him, she would come around. As the dust settled he dropped the lever to Drive, released the brake and moved slowly forward. He briefly made eye contact with the guy who seemed to be in charge, so he lifted his hand in a neighborly wave and headed up the hill and home.