BREAK ME FREE (12 page)

Serge sat on the bed. He rested his head in his hands. “I’m in love with you.”

“You’re….” Tanya sat up and put her arms around him. “Serge, I love you too.”

             
“You love me?” Serge chuckled to himself. He wiped the smile from his face.

“What's so bloody funny?”

“Tanya, I have been waiting for you to say that for years. I always wondered how I would react.”

“Didn’t think you would have laughed
, though.”

“Neither did I. I thought I’d jump on you and never let you go.”

Tanya placed her lips against his and pulled him down on top of her. “I like the sound of that.”

Eyes closed, Tanya traced the sides of Serge’s face with her delicate hands. His
 masculine smell aroused her feminine senses. His lips dictated play as he moved to her neck and then down to her shoulder.”Tell me how much you love me?”

             
“My eyes never tire of you and my heart grows fonder with every second we are together.”

             
Tanya felt his heavy hands on her petite breasts, massaging her stiffening nipples through her flimsy pajama top. Tanya gripped the bed sheets as her breathing grew heavy with excitement.

             
Serge parted her pin-like legs as they continued to passionately taste each other’s lips. Feeling his way up the soft fabric of her baby blue pajama bottoms, he caressed her thigh, stopping just short of her sex. His confidence grew as he felt Tanya grind her hips against his. Gently he brushed his fingers slowly along the crotch of her nightwear. Tanya reached for his hand and pressed it against her sex. Despite the pajamas and panties, he could still feel her warmth.

             
Far from the usual motions of sex, the intimacy of lovemaking thrilled Tanya. She nibbled Serge’s ear as she felt his hand work its way inside her cotton panties. A shiver of excitement rushed down her spine as he massaged her nether lips.

Serge watched as Tanya’s eyes rolled back with pleasure. Her mouth fell open as he
 sank his middle finger deeper. A smile crossed his face as he stared into her eyes and carefully slid a second finger into the warmth of his love. Tanya grabbed his wrist. “Slowly, Serge.” Still inside, he gently rubbed her clitoris with his thumb. She reached up and wrapped herself around him. “Fucking amazing.” Caught within an excited passion, Tanya let herself free and shuddered to a climax.

Her hands on Serge’s cheeks, she leaned forward and met his lips with
 hers. “I love you Serge.” Tanya felt captivated by Serge’s smile and pressed her forehead against his. “I really do.

             
“I love you too.” Serge sat up and hooked his fingers around her panties and pulled them down her long slender legs. He gazed lovingly at her shaven vagina, its lips flush with a deep pink. Kneeling down between her drawn up legs he tasted her femininity. Serge lapped at her sex with the same enthusiasm that a cat would clean a saucer of milk. While he probed with his tongue, he slipped his hands under Tanya’s t-shirt and stroked her puffy nipples.

Running her fingers through his hair she groaned with pleasure and gasped to
 his every lick. Tanya’s legs parted to their full extent, letting Serge have as much freedom as he desired. She knew she was at his mercy and should be feeling vulnerable. But she felt safe and secure and knew it was supposed to be. Reaching forward, she grabbed Serge under his arms. Pulling him up, so they were face to face, she muttered breathlessly, “Take me, I’m yours.”

             
Serge unbuckled his belt while Tanya unbuttoned his shirt. He shivered at the touch of her lips as she kissed his naked chest. Tanya’s fingers raked his broad shoulders before feeling their way to the small of his back. She gradually worked her way down to his boxer shorts. Seeing his penis pushing against his chequered boxers caused her to chuckle and she pushed him down, before letting it spring back up. “Oh, look you.” Pulling at his shorts, she revealed Serge’s manhood.

             
Pulling back the smooth foreskin, Tanya could feel Serge shudder as her pink tongue tasted him. Opening her mouth, Megan guided her lips over the head of his penis. She glanced up at Serge, who had his eyes closed and seemed lost in the moment. Bobbing her head up and down, she tried to slide the penis deeper down her throat.

Serge peered down as Tanya gagged on his manhood. He stared straight into her
 saucer-sized eyes as he felt utter bliss. The sensations of Tanya’s mouth wreaked havoc on Serge’s self-control. He felt he had no choice but to pull himself free, leaving webs of saliva bridging from Tanya’s lips and his penis. “Lay back my love.”

Tanya closed her eyes as she felt his penis press against her for the first time. She
 reached down and felt his soft foreskin. She smiled as she rubbed it up and down before guiding it into her sex.

             
Holding her breath, Tanya grabbed the bed sheets with both hands as Serge entered. Her face scrunched up as she felt him grind into her for the first time, pressing deeper inside with every passing stroke.

As their excitement heightened, the pace quickened. Tanya held onto Serge as
 though her life depended on it. She deadened her screams by biting his shoulders as he pounded her into the mattress. “I’m coming Serge. I can’t help it, sorry.” With her toes curled up, she closed her eyes and felt the orgasm come in one huge rush as Tanya held her breath as she didn’t want to scream. But the passion forced its way. “Oh God, Yes.” Her hands pulled at Serge’s hair. “Serge… Serge. I love ….”

             
Serge pulled out just in time as a jet of white shot across Tanya’s belly. He blushed and apologised. “Sorry … I don’t think any got left behind.” Tanya hadn’t noticed as she was still overcome by the feeling of satisfaction and relief that she hadn’t felt in a long time. All she could muster was a satisfied smile.

* * * *

The room was dark and night was still, but Tanya was wide awake. Wrapped in Serge’s arms, she lay in disbelief. It had been less than a week since her life had changed forever. Free of a life of fear, she had now found love. Tanya reached down and kissed Serge’s arm as he slept. She stroked the dark hairs on his arm while deep in thought. Tanya felt she owed Serge everything, yet somehow she knew that all he desired was her.

* * * *

              Serge rose from the bed at the first call of cockerel. He reached down and kissed a sleeping Tanya. He crossed the floor and picked up his clothes, and pushed away the sleeping puppy who had made a basket from his jeans, opened the door and scurried out.

* * * *

Tanya woke to the cries of the puppy. She put the light on causing her to rub her eyes and felt disappointed that Serge had already left. “What’s up, Max? The puppy sat and battered his tail against the floor. “You want attention?” She patted the bed causing Max to race to Tanya and pull at the sheets with his pin-like teeth.

Leaning
 over, Tanya grabbed Max and lifted him onto the bed. He cuddled into her neck and curled into a ball. Tanya chuckled as she stroked Max’s back with her finger. ”Like your comfort don’t you.” She could feel his little heart pounding through his soft fur. She leaned over to put the light out. “At least I won’t be cold now.”

Hot water jetted from the shower head. Standing under the hot water, Serge rubbed
 shampoo into his hair. He sighed as he glanced at the loose hair in his hands and frowned when he noticed the whispery grey threads. As he washed the suds from his hair he could see more fallen hair gathering at the plug hole. Thinking about the aging process caused his joints to ache that little bit more. He put a hand on his stomach and could swear that it was just that little larger than it was the day before. Turning the shower off, he pushed the door open.

* * * *

Wrapped in a towel he stood in his bedroom and stared into the mirror, where he once saw the reflection of a young man, the envy of most, he now only saw a sad middle-aged man. The sound of Bruce downstairs caused Serge to get dressed in a hurry.

* * * *

Outside in the farmyard, Serge noticed the smile on Bruce’s face. “What are you so happy about?”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t think I didn’t hear those bedsprings creaking to the rhythm of love last night.”

Serge rolled the doors of the barn back. “Christ … sorry.”

 
“Don’t be, we played a Sinatra record to drown you both out.'' Bruce climbed into his tractor. ''Now let’s get to those sheep.”

* * * *

Bruce’s legs felt tired after a morning of herding his sheep. He walked across the moorland back towards the tractor. The bleating of sheep echoed from the trailer. His dogs walked to heel and only Serge trailed behind. Bruce glanced back. “What are you worried about?”

“Nothing.”

“After last night, that is what I would have thought. But your face has been as miserable as sin. What is it lad? Don’t you love her?”

“Oh I love her
…. I love the bones of her.”

“She loves you, she hangs on your every word.”

“She does.”

             
“So what’s the problem?”

Serge stopped in his tracks. “
How old do you think I am? Be honest.”

“Thirty.” Bruce rubbed his chin.” Thirty four, five maybe.”

“I’m forty next week.”

“I still don't see what the problem is?”

Serge’s frustration got the better of him and he snapped. “Exactly that.”

“Age stops for no one. Not even those who pay thousands for plastic surgery.”

“I’m forty and she is …. Well I don’t know how old she is.”

“She in her early twenties
, I guess.”

“I know, I know. See, there is no future in it.” Serge walked to the tractor and slumped on
 the footplate. “It’s ripping me apart.”

“But surely you knew about the age difference before.”

”Of course I did. But from afar it didn’t bother me. But having her in my arms made it all real. I suddenly realised what I had … and more importantly what I could lose.”

“Woman are different
than men.”

“No they're not.”

Bruce pulled a boiled sweet from his breast pocket and popped it into his mouth. “They are. Men age better. Sounds shallow to say, but it’s true.”

“But I’m losing my hair, I’m getting a belly, I don’t know half the artists on the radio anymore.”

“Thing is Serge, she knows about your hair, she can see your belly. She still loves you.”

“But in ten years time, will she?”

“Life is for living, not worrying. Tanya came this far with you in hope to be with you…. Forever.” Bruce leant on the tractor wheel. “My advice to you is let it happen.” He leaned over Serge and passed him a brown bag from inside the cab. “Have your lunch. I’m going back to the farm. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

* * * *

Silence was all around, as Serge stared into the grey sky. He watched a bird of prey circle in the thermals high above. Sitting on a turned over trough, he chewed on his corn beef sandwich. The silence was broken by the diesel engine of the Land Rover that echoed from across the fields. He watched Bruce as he stepped out of the Land Rover brandishing a shotgun. Taking the last bite of his sandwich, Serge stood and wiped his hands on his trousers. “I knew I was depressed, but not enough to shoot myself?”

“It’s not for you, it’s for me. Listening to you made me suicidal.” Bruce took an empty
 tin of paint from the back of the vehicle and paced to an old fence post. “I know whenever I had an argument with Beatrice, this was how I would get rid of my frustration.” He placed the can on the fence post and weighed it down a handful of stones. “You shoot?”

“Have on a few occasions.”

Bruce smiled. “Oh yeah? What is your preferred game?”

“People I don’t like.”

              Bruce laughed from the pit of his full belly. “Cracking sense of humour you have.

Lad.”

“Just target practice at a range with the boys from work.”

“Ever used a 12 gauge?”

“No.”

“You haven’t lived, then.”

Holding the highly polished double barrel shotgun, Bruce carefully handed it over to Serge as if he was presenting him with his newborn. “This is Bessie. She is a sort of family heirloom. Passed down three generations.”

Serge brushed his hand down the polished walnut stock, running his fingers along
 the engraved game birds that decorated the butt of the gun. He raised it to his shoulder. “She’s a heavy old bird, but she’s perfectly balanced.”

“Carries the weight in the right places, just like Beatrice
… in the past anyway.”

 
“Looks more like an ornament than a real weapon, she’s a real beauty.”

“Deadlier than the wife’s tongue, she is.” Bruce took out a box of Shotgun shells. “Right,
 let’s see what you can do.”

Serge peered down the
sight. He held it steady until the tin was in sight. Pulling the trigger the gunshot echoed down the valley. Splinters of wood flew into the air, but the tin stubbornly remained on the top of the fence post.

“There goes my old post.”

Serge snapped the barrel open. “I’m sure that sight must be crooked.”

“Watch your mouth
…. You may as well have just called my daughter ugly.”

“Sorry.”

“So you should be.”

Serge held the back of his neck. ”Maybe I should get my eyes tested.”

”Aye, you are forty after all.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

Bruce took the gun from serge. He expelled the used cartridges and inserted two fresh ones into the chamber. Snapping the chamber shut he took aim and fired. The tin can flipped ten feet in the air and came down in two clean halves. “I may be seventy years of age, but I shoot like a young Texan.” A proud smile crossed Bruce’s face as he peered at his Shotgun. “Enjoyed that, not fired this girl in a few years.”

“Not go hunting?”

“Aye, I do. Just use the old air rifle for the rabbits, that’s all. Not had a fox in the area for a good while, so no need for this baby.” Bruce walked to the Land Rover. “I saved a few empty tins from painting the barn last year. So you’re not going to leave until you have a smile back on that face of yours.”

* * * *

              Tanya sat on the doorstep of the farmhouse with Max snuggled into lap. She stroked her finger down his bony spine. The dull thunder of the diesel engine woke Max from his slumber, long before Tanya could hear their return.

Suddenly the Land Rover entered the yard causing Tanya to let Max jump from
 her knee and stand. She walked over to greet Serge with a kiss. “Welcome home, Serge. Good day?”

“Great thanks, little tired after last night.”

“Me too.”

Tanya walked Serge into the house. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I should tell you.”

Serge held Tanya’s hand and sat at kitchen table. “I have something to tell you, actually.”

“Oh.”

“Look, I’m forty next week.”

“So?”

“I’m forty, fucking forty.”

Bruce walked through into the kitchen. “What’s he like, Tanya?” He didn’t get a reply
 as the pair were locked on each other’s eyes. “Try bastard seventy, that’s when you start to worry … and become invisible it seems.”

“I don’t care how old you are, Serge.”

Serge sighed as he glared at Tanya. He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wake up with hairs on my pillow, every morning … they even fall out in the shower.”

“So do mine. It’s natural.”

“I’m not talking about one or two.”

“It really doesn’t bother me.”

Serge squeezed her hand. “How old are you?”

“Twenty five.”

“Fuck.”

“Age is no barrier
… it’s not like I’m underage.” Tanya sat on his knee. “You can’t do anything about your age.”

“I know, I want to
, though. I want to be young, young like you.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to live my life with you.” Serge squinted as he struggled to retain his composure. “I want to be able to make you happy. Not just now, but in the future too.”

“You do
… and you will.”

“I really love you
, I never want you to leave me.”

Tanya held him tightly. “I will never leave you.”

“I will protect you, always.”

Tanya hung from Serge’s shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Age won’t stop
 us living together, not if you really do love me?”

“I think last night proved it
.”

Tanya met his lips with hers.”Talking about last night, I could swear I heard Frank
 Sinatra playing in the background.”

“I’ll explain about that later.” Serge didn’t leave Tanya’s lips as he stood. He
 wrapped her in his arms and squeezed his body into hers. “I have loved you from afar for years.”

“How long?”

“Before Vlad even touched you.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“I couldn’t could I?”

“Why not? I wasn’t always Vlad’s
.”

“You were. I love him, like a brother
… or did before all this, anyway.”

“If you love someone you should always tell them.”

“I was going to. I just hoped he would lose interest in you like he had done with every other girl. But he just wouldn’t let you go.”

“Do you think he loved me?”

”In a twisted way, probably.”

“He was twisted, no doubt in that.”

“It tortured me, seeing you with him. How he treated you. I grew to hate him for that.”

Tanya kissed Serge again. “I always knew there was something special about
 you.” Her smile turned sultry. “How about we go upstairs and get you out of those clothes.”

             
“I need a shower, I smell of sweat.”

“Oh I don’t know. I quite like your manly sweat.”

* * * *

Sitting in the living room, Beatrice heard the pair climb the stairs. She glanced
 at Bruce who read the newspaper. “I think we need to get a new collection of records.”

“Aye, and quick. After that racket I think we need some rock n roll rather than swing
 to drown them out.”

“Or that dreadful boom boom music the girls used to listen to.”

Bruce shivered as he licked his fingers and turned a page. “Oh … don’t remind me.”

“How long did our romance last
… before things became, you know, things went a little more quiet?”

“Three kids kind of got in the way of things.”

Beatrice sat up straight and leered at Bruce. “Cheeky git, I was almost pregnant straight away.”

“Sex is overrated, anyway.”

“How do you mean?”

“Television is much better.”

Beatrice clenched her fists, her heckle were up for a fight. “Why?”

“Because if you get fed up with it, you can change
the channel.”

“Great, you’re saying you’re bored with me?”

Bruce pointed the television remote at Beatrice. “Well you won't fucking change over will you.”

             
Beatrice reached to the floor and picked up her slipper. “Cheeky bastard.” She threw it, striking Bruce in the chest.

“Guess I won’t be getting any tonight.”

“The only thing you’ll be getting is a clip around the bloody ear.”

Bruce returned to his paper. “What’s for tea?”

“Ask the television.”