Cougar Shame

By Billy-John

Theres a cougar in every woman . . . waiting. Mature Georgette, no different. Formed in her stamp, hidden deep within, the fascination that would change her life forever. All to a vehement fever that went unchecked for years.
Such was this irresistible desire to delight in men her
junior . . . building . . . that it eventually took control.
Overnight dawned a cougar rampant. Hungry, she set out for the hunt up of one such boyalone in the springtime of his life. The sultry warmth in her eyes priming only the dreamboats with her flaunt displays of tempting fullness. Where to draw the line? Any shame merely vanity while the willingness was all
her. Desperate to embrace reciprocal love . . . she paraded the hotspots in search for a thrall of love so special, so real that for the first time, shed be spirited away. Hes out there and by damn, shes going to find him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479762538

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Billy-John.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2012923054

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4797-6252-1

                Softcover       978-1-4797-6251-4

                Ebook            978-1-4797-6253-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

The literary work ‘Cougar Shame,’ is strictly a product of fiction, whereby any resemblance to actual person, place, or business is entirely coincidental and is in no way meant to be associated with a similar reality.

Rev. date: 05/09/2013

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1   Hi There!

CHAPTER 2   Contest

CHAPTER 3   5 Years

CHAPTER 4   Supper

CHAPTER 5   The Visit

CHAPTER 6   Tobacco Road

CHAPTER 7   Obit

CHAPTER 8   Scratch

CHAPTER 9   Auction

CHAPTER 10   Table For Two

CHAPTER 11   Nighty Night

CHAPTER 12   Sunrise Services

CHAPTER 13   Mass Confusion

CHAPTER 14   Who’s Supervising    The Construction?

CHAPTER 15   Coma

CHAPTER 16   Bedside

CHAPTER 17   Free!

CHAPTER 18   A Gentleman

CHAPTER 19   Cards On The Table

CHAPTER 20   Urgency!

CHAPTER 21   Magnetic    Personality

CHAPTER 22   Make Over

CHAPTER 23   Under My Wing

CHAPTER 24   Pass The Salt

CHAPTER 25   It Just Happened

CHAPTER 26   Personal Evaluation

CHAPTER 27   The Pretender

CHAPTER 28   Are You Deaf?

CHAPTER 29   Gulible

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My Dad

Dedication

I want to dedicate this one to my father. He’ll never read it. He passed December 7. Parkinson’s won. Ironic that God called him on Pearl Harbor day and him a World War II veteran; my daughter’s birthday. Happy birthday. Baseball, of all sports, his forte. Me not so much. Thinking back: the horseshoe, quiot, ball, bat, even the sickle, looked natural in his hand. He had a special adoration for the Blessed Mother. I can still see his happy face, but in the presence of angels now.

That aside, I was holding up pretty well there at the cemetery. Three of my son’s pallbearers. Thanks for carrying my dad. The priest reading over my father and all was nice. A military funeral: the lone bugler sounding taps cut the air with the Final Salute. Excellently done. The flag draped over the coffin reminded to another time. I watched as it was meticulously folded twelve times by the guards of honor. White gloves making it more. The twelfth fold represents an emblem of eternity… glorifying God, the Father, and Holy Ghost. Dad would want us to know that. In step the flag was then presented to the next of kin. My mother. She’s eighty-two. The honor guard, kneeling in front of the fallen soldiers wife, the straight edge facing her, leaned in and privately uttered, On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of a grateful nation, may I present this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service your loved one rendered this nation." She nodded a warm yes and thanked him. Pressed between her hands, her face aglow, she slowly stood up, stepped around, and handed it to me. No way was I expecting that. Moved, the honor overwhelmed me. Thanks mom. Impacted, the moment burned in my brain, so special her wanting me to have it. You’re the oldest. It goes to you. You knew dad the longest. Another son, named after my father, went and ordered a wooden keepsake box to display it in. Thanks. Beautiful behind glass… regarded with great respect by all who rest their eyes upon it. Well, that’s all that remains now, a flag in a box. My father is no more. Damn it, I miss him. If you’ve had occasion of burying your father, sorry, you know where I’m at. If you haven’t, you’re lucky.

Billy-John

CHAPTER 1   Hi There!

M irrored in her eyes, a man half her age. Besot by him, Georgette stirred to life. She can’t stop what’s she’s doing. He liked being flirted with. The ebb of temptation, too much. Biggest fool of all , she admitted.

She’s always wanted things she can’t have—playful like that. Her eyes could still flash a sultry look though… and lewdly she did. Her zaftig pose, clear. This was more than a passing infatuation. The mood there swooned by ecstasy, magic, and more. So unthinkable the experience that a moral feeling swept over Georgette. It passed as waves of sensation disposed her mind. She trembled with excitement. His eyes, gorgeous. Mistaken signals, there were not. What’s more, there was an exchange of suggestive remarks. Hearts beating faster.

And then a moment later, sitting stiffly, the same blossom of youth avoided the carefree devil look in her glittering eyes. Purposely, he tried not to catch the intention behind the wink she tossed. Then coolly, he presented his back. With a distant nod, he cut his eyes up to the full moon… seemingly no longer tolerant of her roam in lust. Georgette’s face twisted with worry. She felt the pit of her stomach grip from the strain of being rejected. She’d suffered many a men rebuff. Reflexively, she reached out. Her soft gaze and warm word pulling him back.

Splitting his creamy skinned face, a grin. She sighed contentedly while her hand curled into a fist jokingly. Doug, not done, leaned in and shot her a look—you know you wanna. The same grin still stretched across his handsome lips. Georgette’s surprised reaction, genuine. Her eyes widened in disbelief; entertaining even the smallest hope that he’d be interested in her for real. To her blush, she felt him slip an arm around the draped sash baring her shoulders. Her trembling hand flew to his… earnest pleading eyes peering in his now. She clung to him unashamed, and drew a pleased breath.

Strollers stealing across the lawn, espying upon them all cuddled lovingly inside the gazebo, rose up on tiptoes to see. The busybodies peer in not causing either to wince.

The first few hours of their meeting, the chance occurrence, saw glad eyes. The sea breeze whipping Georgette’s hair. Fingers gentle on his arm when she pointed out the silver ribbon of moon light spanning the ocean.

Time had barely touched the corners of her mouth. Her lips full. Softness in her cheeks. Her natural attraction, the craving wetting his appetite. The hunger, within the body carved from rock, intensified. Caught by the cheeks, Georgette’s first impulse was to shake off his restraining hold. Not going to happen. Kind of nice the way Doug held her face so sweetly. She luxuriated in the sensation… letting him steal away a kiss or two. The youthful gentleman invited a spirit never before. She sought his lips again and again. A fluttering sigh wrenched from her when she could no longer allow herself. Lost in those deep blue eyes. His young face the picture of a sweetheart. His complexion so healthy looking. Doug fretted that he was not doing enough. The luxury of time in his favor. The night, young.

Georgette’s face aglow… her hand refusing to release his. Doug ushered her to his lap. She leapt at him. His game, thin voice, working. With his eyes half-closed, scarcely breathing, he soothed near her ear. Moreover, the shallow slices that crisscrossed her flesh, he did not seem to mind while her lopsided smile meant everything. What he murmured made her feel flattered. His head rested on her fine feminine shoulder where he caught the scent of her perfume. He placed a kiss there. Her heart stirred from the attention. Lovingly, he then gathered her hair in a somber knot at the nape. The different look seemed to excite him. Standing back, he dragged his eyes up and down her. His study wouldn’t let up. She sat there in stony silence not knowing if it was good or bad. Her eyes were on him the whole time… waiting. His youth making her embarrassment more. Doug’s buffed arms and muscular torso bloomed from tailored trousers into a crispy ironed shirt. He was so handsome. And then through a meaningful nod, he expressed approval. The age difference not a problem then.

The mercury fell ten degrees. The stabbing north wind swirled Georgette’s open toes and up the dress that fell short. Back inside to the party, they headed. Georgette’s lean into him purposely meant to show off her elegant nature. Feeling like a kid again. Surprised by her conduct. Her idea to exchange numbers. Finally a man who gets her.

From the light up of her face came, Will you call me then? Doug nodded that he would. Keeping it exciting, Georgette navigated where and how they’d be hanging out. She enjoyed the role reversal. Secretly, she trifled a notion of playing hanky-panky on a blanket with him. Her mind already on the second date. Would he win her a bear? Behaving like a stupid teenage girl and loving every minute of it. She wanted him to know the little things that make her happy. And her of him, as well. She hid not that she was a pushover. Taken seriously, his words filled her as they loped along the coble stone path.

Stopping in the garden, they embraced. A fluttering sigh graced the air. Doug talking softly; his thirst heard worshipping her perhaps. Set mouth to mouth… sensual kisses were planted. Longed for, his fingers made clumsy in such caressable hair. Wanting to gorge on her neck, he yanked her head back. What he bothered heaved a passionate sigh, and she bent back further. A fire flamed in her and there was no denying it.

Having sipped from the fountain of youth, dating would never be the same for Georgette. Out of a single taste, borne a delusion of grandeur. Inside, she was young at heart again. So exhilarating being with him that she was reluctant to believe it true.

Georgette, independently wealthy, fifty-eight, widowed eighteen months… the marriage not so encompassing; two children close in heart but not in distance, two grandchildren, refuses to be part of her husband’s legacy. The differences he made in her life, not at all significant. Her bereavement, more for appearance’s sake. Survivor guilt, there was not. His presence no longer, honestly, a sense of peace. No one must know.

Pastoral minister’s want to sustain the connection… don’t be angry with God. She’s not. You need to join a support group. She replies, I most certainly will not. Just stay active, she tells herself. Keep your feelings to yourself: inasmuch as there was a period of grieving though. The loneliness unbearable. His hugs were meaningful. His touch, more than she realized. Her funeral thank-you notes from the heart then.

The following weeks: all good memories what the family had to share; lest the wife who saw them as cruel reminders—his closet emptied the tell of it and more. Georgette’s friend, a counselor, shared, Whatever you’re feeling is okay— which was good enough for her.

Jarred into a deeper awareness of what’s truly important, her laughter is different. Joyful and worthwhile again. Within, there’s still a small place that remains empty. Deeply in her heart of hearts, she’d cherish a loving relationship. Thinking seriously about it all the time, Georgette’s about to redefine her life. More than just changing a name here and there, this gal’s making plans.

—   —   —

Georgette awoke rested the following morning. Her eyes popped open to what she’d done. Nothing happened. Expect that she made a fool of herself. Him being so young. Nothing to feel guilty about, she exclaimed over and over. I’ll deny giving him my attention. The want-to in his eyes was all him. Not me! He was the one giving sultry glances, she professed till she accepted it as true.

Doug’s roguishly dark good looks came to mind. She squeezed the pillow. Owning up, she recalled her flaunt displays. She confessed being all sweet and attentive. The clean breast of it claimed there was nothing overtly sexual. There was. Declaring herself guilty, the covers pulled back up over her head. I’ll move, she averred. Me, the object of his affection. He must have been as drunk as I was. Just a one night crush. That’s all it was. The drinks lowered my inhibitions. That’s it. That’s what I’ll say. I can’t have this attached to my name.

Unable to confess him and the hour of temptation, she worried what the kids would say? Where to draw the line, mother. His scent still caught in her nose. She would not humiliate herself with his masculine goodness any longer. She took a shower. Her bosom and hips amply displayed in the mirror. A prolonged look of her bared rump followed. Lust over this, wowed with woe, I don’t think so. A lingerie model admittedly she was not.

Oh, how she remembered the touch of his hand… so gentle on hers. The way he nuzzled her neck, and in her hair. Her mouth finding his pillow lips, again and again. With Doug, she so wanted a hook up—that’s what they call it now.

Georgette closed her eyes and imagined more about last night. Something caught his eye, she tooted. Still got it even now. She managed a grin through the pulsating water. Her resolve weakened to where she was carried away completely. And it was the pompous of love that asked. I hope he’s not married.

A little after nine the phone rang: Good morning. I dreamt about you last night.—Really—Yeah, you and me. We spent the night in a secret cove. Timely, we arrived there just before high tide. You packed a basket and I, a cooler. There by the fire, we cuddled. Just off the blanket your painted toes in the sand. Those sapphire eyes, the sparkle what was lighting the moon. In the shadows of the flickering flames, your white two-piece suit became enhanced. Your figure, gorgeous. There, all night, in my arms you be. Never before have I had a dream so vivid. Have lunch with me. I won’t take no for an answer. The new place on the pier where they paint portraits. Perfect then. And after we eat, I’ll have them capture you on canvas… with me always then. One o’clock my love. Be early… click.

Wait! He hung up. Well, I can’t go, that’s all there is to it. If he would have waited, I would have told him. This has already gone too far. Calling me nine o’clock in the morning for a date. Three hours notice. What’ll I wear? He actually dreams about me. My toes in the sand. I’ll need a pedicure. My figure gorgeous. I’ll go on a crash diet. Sandy’s been trying to get me to join her gym. She lost weight. I’m gonna sign up today. Two-piece suit! He didn’t say that. Tell me he didn’t say that. I can’t be ready in three hours.

There in the restaurant: Georgette idly picked up a menu. Her peer over the top scanned the room. She knows gossip moves quickly. Good, nobody there she recognized. The crowd younger. It’s just lunch, she reminded.

The two buttons she gave up earlier, she rebuttoned after the second player’s eyes rested there. The cleavage, considerable. Those two guy’s smiles did nothing for her. Some other time perhaps.

Tells me to be early, and he’s late. Fifteen more minutes. It’s not like we have a deep affinity for each other. Do we? Saying that aloud triggered remembrance of a time past. Hurt bad that time. She had lengthened her lashes for him too. The two poles apart. Which is why today she’s stepped it up a notch… sexier. Absolutely, lovely with her side-swept long black hair. Waves upon waves. The strappy white sandals reflected her effortless grace… seen when she came in. The long lacy sleeve blouse and short skirt ladylike without being overt. But the pop of red lip color was all chic; fabulous with the neutral makeup.

Her glass of wine empty; she refused the refill. Looking more and more like she’d been stood up. And then across the front windows, she saw him passing… stepping fast. His peer in already searching for her. A big smile cut Georgette’s face. She waved… enlarged on till she drew his attention. Needing glasses if he didn’t see her.

Before her date even sat down, everybody was gawking at them. Old hitting on young always of interest. Who’s senior and should know better. She saw them snickering to her being shameless. The attitude there, so judgmental. Georgette wanted to leave. But before she could clue him, Doug lit on how nice she looked. His head ducked quickly so as his eyes could sweep what was under the table. Wow! Georgette played up the excitement of it for the nosy; nothing going to interfere with her romantic luncheon. Eat your heart out girls, she minded boastfully. And the way she did it inflamed passion that was so over the top, illicit, she might as well stuck out her tongue at all the ones staring. Seeing them twined hatefully in whispers that were meant to pour scorn her way.

CHAPTER 2   Contest

V icky, the one getting dumped, saw Georgette’s need of her boyfriend, her Doug, for what it was: adult promiscuousness on a naïve boy. The mature woman’s clutch on him so wrong. Morally wrong.

Doug and his infatuation with the older woman, secret liaisons, were rumored for weeks before Vicky got wind of it. Of all people, her mother had to be the one to tell her. She never liked him either. With great relish, mommy dear let it be known too. I hear you’re enrolled in a contest for Doug now. The competition is quite mature from what I hear. The age difference sees him with his mother more than a girlfriend.

Since they never actually met, Vic spied the contender once at the boutique in the mall. Wanting to know more about the woman who had Doug’s eye, she drew closer. At one point, she was standing within a couple feet. The perfume, expensive, fumed her nostrils with the same sensual scent exciting her man. She fired to the thought of them together. Him aroused and not with her.

More about Vic’s study: Georgette was very attractive. Great shape. Her bared midriff undoubtly toned. Hair to die for. And those eyes. Seeing her up close, how beautiful she was, Vic feared she’d never get Doug back.

The personable woman’s purse lay open aside her on the counter. Vic’s eyes pointed in there curiously. A big yellow envelope called out only because Doug was scrolled across it in big letters. His birthday greeting card then. It hurt seeing it, but not as much as knowing what its message meant to him… surely ending with Love Georgette xxxooo.

Vic wanted to strangle the woman right then and there. Make her confess her shame. Just then, the same thieving hussy took notice of her. A grin separated Georgette’s fattened cherry lips as she cheerfully addressed Vic. Where did you get those boots? They are so cool looking. Vicky’s eyes narrowed to what the delicately pretty face invited. The moment, awkward for her. Clouded by the woman’s glamour, Vic choked out, I don’t know my mom got them. To ease her jitters, Vic snagged a store flier and pretended to read. Georgette, just being friendly, leaned in and complimented her. Well, I like them. She winked. A far cry from what I’m wearing. Vic’s returned contempt, hidden, would have gladly given her the boots.

After that day, the chance encounter, thrown to the curb and all, Vic stepped out of the picture. That he still loved her… a cause for laughter. He lied. So distraught over losing him, she was left wondering if she was womanly enough for any man. Tops in popularity… so what. With morbid persistence, she vowed, If he wants to betray someone who loves him, then that’s how it is. She can have him. She dwelled on, I still love you so . . . but you’ll never know.

Consumed with envy over the sentiment associated with the birthday card, Vicky almost forgot what else she saw nestled in the netted section of Georgette’s purse: a small short-barreled shinny pistol with ivory handles. The recall of the ladies weapon was a cause for concern; knowing that the woman would use it to protect what was hers… obviously, Doug now.

CHAPTER 3   5 Years

"Where are